Cold Heart, Dark Soul
by DZ2
Summary: Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become colder and darker than even Voldemort could be. Eventual Dark-Smart-Powerful Harmony: AU of all 7 years
1. Who Is Harry Potter?

Cold Heart, Dark Soul: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters; all copyright belongs to JK Rowling; I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Challenge Details: Whitetigerwolf's Black Family Challenge:**

**Summary: **Rather than being left with the Dursleys, Harry Potter is raised by Bellatrix Lestrange. (I know there are such stories out there, but this is my challenge)

**Requirements: **Bellatrix cannot be caught or identified as a death eater (I don't care about her husband or brother-in-law however)

Bellatrix must gain legal custody of Harry (it doesn't have to be right away), to keep Dumbledore from taking him to the Dursleys

Harry and Draco must be cousins as close as brothers

Draco and Harry must take after their respective parent (Politician vs. fighter. I know Lucius can fight, and as a daughter of the Black family, Bellatrix would probably know politics, but I see them as leaning more one way than the other). Draco must be the more the sleazy go-in-the-back-door type, while Harry is more the straight up blow-down-the-front-door type

In that same vein, even if he doesn't like it, Harry must at least understand politics

Harry and Draco must go into Slytherin house

Harry must, even if he takes the Lestrange or Black name (depending on what you do with Bella and Ruddy), must still know he is a Potter

Harry must learn, and be talented in, dark magic

No M/M slash

Bellatrix cannot, for Harry's sake, return to Voldemort as a loyal follower

Voldemort cannot win or be a good guy

Sorry, but no Multi-pairings

Sirius and Bellatrix cannot get along (they can work together for Harry however)

Sirius must be declared innocent at some point

Bellatrix must yell at Dumbledore at least once about Harry's safety when he starts going to school

Out of respect for his birth-mother, Harry will not use the word Mudblood

Snape must still dislike Harry, though tolerates him as Head of House

Bellatrix must begin teaching Harry the Dark Arts and Occlumency before Hogwarts

Harry must scare a fellow student at least once

**Recommended: **Harry/Hermione, with Hermione still being a Gryffindor and Muggleborn

- Harry becoming an Animagus

- Harry gets two wands, one from Ollivanders and an unregistered one for Dark magic

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story and also I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

Chapter 1: "Who Is Harry Potter?"

A calm rain fell over the buildings that filled London, forcing people into their homes or seeking shelters within London's many different shops and stores; leaves were battered by the watery downpour and small rivulets of dampness drizzled down onto the windows and into the guttering of many different buildings.

It was within this weather that, from a high vantage point within St Christopher's Orphanage for Boys, a lean, almost relaxed body watched the scene below his windows, a pair of cold, calculating green eyes watching as people moved around the streets and past the gates that marked the entrance to the home.

It seemed amusing that, within a home named after the patron saint of travellers, there was always one that never seemed to travel anywhere; instead, he just sat there, one leg curled up against his chest while his right leg dangled from the window-sill, which was what gave him the appearance of relaxation.

However, if anyone looked into the emerald eyes of the boy, a certain Harry James Potter, they would instead find a sense of boredom and apathetic expression within his pale skin and calculating gaze. Though he was only nearing his eleventh birthday, Harry's bored, apathetic expression was one that many would expect to see on the face of someone far older than him; as he watched the rainfall, Harry mentally counted the seconds since he'd noticed an unusual figure approaching the home and then, from outside his door, he heard a voice speaking.

"I must admit to some confusion upon receiving your letter, Mr Dumbledore," If Harry could smile, he would have done: the voice he heard was that of Mariah McKnight, one of the head care workers at the orphanage and someone, if not the only one who didn't see Harry as something that shouldn't be there.

Mariah was also the only member of the home that Harry would allow to show him anywhere and be with him in the same room as others, though she never talked down to him and was like a mother to him…if Harry could remember what that felt like. "In all the years that Harry's been here, he's never once had a family visitor: you see, ever since he was a young lad, there were times when people seemed frightened to be around him and he kept himself to himself. Whenever it came to potential adoptions, some people would be terrified by…well, I think you'll see for yourself. You say you knew his birth parents?"

"Indeed I did," a low, male voice answered, Harry's expression not even changing at the mention of his parents: he'd never known family, save for the support that Mariah showed to him, so any mention of his parents was almost taboo in the orphanage. The last person to foolishly question his birth had…well, had needed a quick relocation to the nearest mental hospital as soon as possible.

The man was speaking to Mariah again, "And I am surprised that Harry is here when I believed him in the company of his late Mother's sister. Have you ever met the woman?"

Before Mariah could answer, a cold breeze blew from Harry's room and, though he couldn't see her, he knew that she was worried for him: her voice continued to address the mystery man, Mr Dumbledore. "Harry denied all knowledge of that…that _woman_ a long time ago; she and her…family left him for dead and it was by a stroke of luck that I found him. When the other care workers realised that I was the only one that he'd let get close to him, they offered me a permanent job; as you could see, Mr Dumbledore, any mention of her or Harry's past brings…strange things to happen. There have been incidents with the other children because of this: nasty things have happened."

After she'd said this, Harry finally heard the knock on his door, before he whispered, "Come in."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

From the other side of the door, the face of Albus Dumbledore suddenly adopted a look of fear as he heard an emotionless, callous voice that reminded him of another orphanage and another young man: surely Harry's condition wasn't _that_ bad, was it?

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Mariah opened the door and spoke with a gentle, but light-hearted air as she explained, "Harry, you have a visitor: this is Mr Albus Dumbledore from a school that your parents went to: he's here to talk to you about…well, about the letter from the other day."

"Thank you, Mariah," Harry replied, keeping his face on the rain-streaked window as he kept his gaze away from Dumbledore, though he directed his next words at the old man, "You're here to talk about my magic and the fact that I'm a wizard, aren't you?"

"I am," Dumbledore replied, half-surprised that the person known as Mariah wasn't reacting to the words spoken by her charge; instead, she stood patiently near the door and seemed to wait for the next bit of business. "Harry, can you look at me so we can have a proper conversation?"

"I don't want to look at you," Harry replied, his voice as calm and level-toned as though it was crafted from solid stone, "No offence, Mr Dumbledore, but I don't know you: however, I would be glad to answer any questions that you may have for me."

"Shall I stay for this, Harry?" asked Mariah, Harry shaking his head slowly and, with a click of the door, she was gone, though Harry knew that Mariah wouldn't go far: not where business with him was concerned.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Dumbledore, meanwhile, took in Harry's appearance: he seemed to be at least a head taller than the average eleven year old with long, almost spindly legs and arms, a small amount of raw muscle on his frame, giving him a really gaunt look. One of his arms was resting over the knee that was curled against his chest while the other appeared to be dangling at his side with his right leg.

His hair wasn't as messy as Dumbledore remembered James Potter's to be; instead, it was cut short and swept to the left, a single bang of black hair covering Harry's fringe and, in particular, a certain scar that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

The similarities between Harry and a young man that Dumbledore didn't really want Harry to turn into were frighteningly close; trying a new approach, Dumbledore asked, "Aren't you uncomfortable sat there, Harry?"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

"Not really," Harry replied, his voice as cold as his expression, "I've grown used to sitting here; it's where I'm calmest: so, who are you and what do you have to do with this Hogwarts place, sir?"

"Hogwarts is a special school for children just like you, Harry," Dumbledore explained, "It's a place where you can learn to wield your magic in the right way: and I am its headmaster…a wizard, like you, Harry."

"Prove it," Harry told him, Dumbledore obliging as he drew his wand and, pointing it at the window where Harry was sat, he turned the drops of water that splashed the pane into vines that slithered through the glass and rose in front of Harry, forming a perfect ivy plant that, ironically, was decorated with lily flowers.

"That is just a small sample of the magic you could one day use," Dumbledore explained, though he noticed that Harry hadn't moved his head from the window. He was, however, looking at the plant: perhaps it was time for Dumbledore to learn a little more about the boy, "And I know you have magic, Harry: you can do things, can't you? Things no-one else can do?"

"I can move things without touching them," Harry told him, his voice growing colder with each word, "I can make animals do what I want without training them; I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me: I can make them hurt…if I wanted to and yet I make it look like nothing more than a freak accident: so tell me: is that normal for someone like me?"

'No,' thought Dumbledore, 'It isn't: and he's almost word-for-word matching everything that Tom Riddle said nearly fifty years ago; Harry mustn't follow that path: I won't lose another one.'

"It may not be normal," Dumbledore told him, trying to hide his shock at the boy's choice in words, "But at Hogwarts, you're not only taught how to use magic, but how to control it: when you go to the school, I can only hope you can make friends with peers your own age and let go of whatever damage has been done to you here."

"I don't need friends," Harry told him, the coldness in his voice bringing the icy wind that Dumbledore had felt before: could Harry's magic also have an elemental tie to it? "I choose to be alone because then I'm free to be myself and nobody can stop me; anyone that gets in my way winds up getting hurt. Then they turn on me and…bad things happen: I won't risk it again…is that everything, Mr Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, rising from the bed where he'd been sitting. 'For now anyway: perhaps I should try to release some of that childish innocence in him.'

As the man went to leave, Harry's voice then spoke up, "I can speak to snakes as well: they come in the dark, find me, whisper to me and protect me: is that a normal thing, Professor?"

Dumbledore turned his head to look back at the boy, but as he did so, his eyes widened as he saw Harry looking at him, a pair of cold emerald-green eyes shining with the harshness and frosty glare of someone who was willing to do anything to achieve success. As their eyes met, Dumbledore tried to use a small Legilimency attack, before the plant that he'd created burst into flame and his probe was rejected, Harry's icy voice cutting through the room as he told Dumbledore, "Don't do that again."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Tipping an invisible hat to Harry, Dumbledore left the room, thanking the seemingly kind-hearted Mariah for her time and, reaching the outskirts, went to Apparate back to Hogwarts when a shocking revelation hit him:

Not once, in all their conversation, had he told Harry that he was a Professor…so how had the boy known what to call him?

And, more to the point, how did a ten-year-old boy have Occlumency shields and magical awareness equal to that of someone three times his age and experience?

Yes, Dumbledore was certainly worried: he couldn't afford another Tom Riddle, but Harry was as closed in as the ancient Greek labyrinth; it would take a miracle for him to open up…

'Or,' Dumbledore thought, apparating to his office in Hogwarts, 'Maybe it would take not something, but some_one_; like someone who won't believe that Harry Potter could be so cold.'

Activating the device that kept him connected with his staff, Dumbledore asked, "Severus, can you come to my office? I have a little job for you."

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

Back in St Christopher's, Harry watched from his window as Dumbledore left the orphanage and disappeared in the blink of an eye, before he turned and, seeing Mariah there, he asked in his icy voice, "Did he suspect anything about you?"

"No," Mariah replied, a now victorious smile crossing her face as she asked, "What about you? Did he manage to draw out the truth when he tried to attack your mind?"

"He only had one chance," Harry told her, striding past Mariah and, opening his wardrobe, he retrieved a long black cloak, before he closed the doors and added, "And that's all I'm ever going to give him: as soon as my barriers touched his attack, my magic did as I commanded and scared him off. I know he'll be watching me now, but if he thinks he can turn me, then he clearly didn't suspect a thing about you…Mariah."

"Now Harry," Mariah told him, helping him fix his cloak before she closed the door and, with a cold grin, added, "You know that's not what you call me when we're alone."

"I know," Harry replied, his stoic voice adding to the cold expression as any other child would have said sorry, but not him. "He never did suspect you, even with your cover story: after all, who would really believe that Harry Potter, so-called Boy-Who-Lived was raised not by Mariah McKnight, but…"

As he trailed off, he turned and looked at Mariah, but she was gone: in place of the caramel-blonde-haired woman with kind grey eyes, there was now a dark-haired witch with hair that was like it had been struck by lightning, her face showing a kind, albeit maniacally-cold smile emphasised by wild brown eyes, that she reserved for Harry and him alone.

"Yes," she replied, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

Severus Snape believed that the fates must hate him;

First Dumbledore tells him that he has to leave his potions and preparations for a new year of dunderheads to guide a new student to Diagon Alley and _then_ on top of all that, he then tells Severus that the student is none other than the hellspawn of James Potter.

When Severus had a chance to argue, Dumbledore had warned him that Harry may have been many things, but, just from their brief meeting, it was clear to the old man that he _wasn't_ James. However, Severus wouldn't buy into that: once a Potter, always a Potter, which meant that the arrogant brat would think himself the centre of his own universe and expect all who stood before him to bow to his wishes.

Well, Severus wouldn't fall for it: he'd use this little guided tour to teach the boy a few things about respect and then, when it was done, he'd be begging for a spot in his Father's House where he'd think himself a Golden Boy and a Prince again.

However, as Severus was asked to go with the boy on July 31st, and as he turned up at the door to the orphanage where he was met by a mysterious caramel-haired woman who asked if he was a friend of Mr Dumbledore's, there was a sense of coldness in the air that Severus didn't like: something about the woman was eerily familiar.

Something dark…

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

Dressed in a fairly casual shirt and trousers, both of which were in deep-set black, Harry made his way down to the meeting room where he smiled as he saw 'Mariah' speaking with a man that had dark hair, sallow skin, cold, dark eyes and was dressed in a suit that made him look unnaturally thin.

In a way, Harry silently wondered if he was looking at himself in a few years, but he ignored the sensation when the man turned those dark eyes on him and, despite his cold air, the man actually gasped as he saw Harry standing there.

"Harry," 'Mariah' beamed, her eyes on him where she winked with her left eye, as if to show she knew the man, "This is Professor Severus Snape, a teacher at the school and someone that is apparently here to take you to get your things for school."

"Really?" asked Harry, his bored tone surprising Severus as he moved down the stairs, not tripping and not stumbling even once, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape: I'd offer to shake your hand, but I don't believe in close contact. So, are we going to stand here all day or are we going to get a move on to wherever you're taking me?"

Once more, Severus glanced towards Mariah and, as he looked into her grey eyes, he noticed it: an air of coldness and malice that couldn't be seen on any one person's face…well, except one that Severus knew fairly well, but…it couldn't be…could it?

"Mr Potter," Severus replied to Harry's query, "Our journey into the Alley will take up most of today, so I suggest you cancel any plans and come with me."

"I wouldn't pressure him, Professor Snape," 'Mariah' told Severus, "Harry's not like other boys: everything he does is as he sees it to happen; you wouldn't want him to accuse you of…snivelling, would you?"

There it was: the word that had haunted Severus all of his adult life; there was no denying it: after all, she'd been the only one who would ask it like that and use that accursed word with such cold glee. Clearing his throat, Severus answered, "Of course Miss…McKnight; shall we go then, Mr Potter?"

As Harry stepped past Severus, the Potions Master actually gulped as he felt the boy's magic ripple against the other two in the room: that aura, the presence of the affinity within it: there was no denying it.

It was _Dark_ magic!

'Albus was right,' Severus thought as he followed Harry out of the orphanage and down towards a street where they could move off towards Diagon Alley, 'This is _no_ James Potter: especially not when he seems to be protected…by…by _her._'

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

As they moved off Charing Cross Road, having given Harry his first taste of Apparition – which, much to Severus' surprise, the boy didn't argue or throw up all over him – the Potions Master then got his first taste of what the so-called Boy-Who-Lived looked like when he was uncomfortable. As they walked down to the spot that Severus knew housed the Leaky Cauldron, Harry's eyes seemed to become as cold and hard as the stones they so famously represented.

When Severus went to ask why, he saw the boy's eyes follow a family of three who looked happy and joyful, but, when they saw Harry and Severus, they gave them a wide berth.

'I wonder,' Severus thought, stopping just a few doors down from the Cauldron as he asked, "Mr Potter, you seem to be tense about families? May I ask what the matter is?"

"If I wanted to share any of my secrets with you," Harry scowled, his voice laced with venom that dripped from his tongue, "I'd tell you: and before you spout off some ridiculous nonsense about showing you respect, I feel it right to say this: respect is something you earn, not something you get because you're an elder or a mentor. If you prove to be more of a respectable mentor than what Dumbledore managed, then _maybe_ I'll respect you, Professor Snape. Let me give you a hint: _don't_ read my mind, _don't_ ask me about my family and, whatever you do, _don't_ even think about comparing me to my Father."

'How does he know about that?' asked Severus, wondering if the infamous 'Mariah' could have told him. Heaving a sigh, Severus answered Harry calmly, "I expect respect that a student would give a teacher, Mr Potter, but I feel you are correct about true respect being earned. I…apologise for intruding on your secrets like that."

"I forgive you," Harry replied, though the words _this time_ were unspoken as they continued walking and, much to Severus' surprise, Harry walked right into the Cauldron without needing it to be pointed out to him.

Passing through the patrons, as he'd always hated it when attention was drawn to him, Severus led Harry out to the back and tapped the bricks on the wall to open the entrance: once again, Harry's face remained expressionless as he looked upon Diagon Alley for the first time. He didn't gasp or look awed or impressed; instead, his bored expression remained and, as he walked out onto the street, he seemed to know where he was going as it was now Severus' turn to _follow_ Harry down to Gringotts and into the bank.

The only time that Harry spoke to Severus was to ask for his key, which again, he just seemed to _know_ the man had been given: when Severus presented it, Harry surprised him once more as he grabbed the man's hand, using his free hand to take the key from him and hold it in front of Severus' face.

"This," he hissed coldly, "Belongs to me: you have _no right_ to hold it and neither does whoever gave it to you; if I find any more of _my _possessions taken from me, the consequences will not be to your liking, I can promise you that!"

Then he released Severus' hand and, turning to the goblin who had been waiting, Harry presented his key and spoke with a different tone altogether, "Now, if you would be so kind, Master goblin, to show me to my vault: we can conclude this business and you can return to your tasks with no further intrusions."

"Right this way, Mr Potter," the goblin, who introduced himself as Barchoke, replied, gesturing to one of the carts and, once Harry and Severus were inside, they moved off down the rollercoaster-like tracks towards Harry's vault;

All the while, Severus' mind was repeating the same question over and over again:

'Who _are_ you, Harry Potter?'

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Leaving Gringotts, a small bag full of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts under his coat, Harry stepped out into the warm summer sun and, breathing in a scent of fresh air, he spoke to Severus, "Well…that was…interesting."

That was one word for the experience that Harry had endured: first, Barchoke had taken them down a long and winding rollercoaster-like track towards Harry's vault and then, upon opening the vault, Harry had been introduced to more money than he'd ever seen in his life…and yet his expression had remained the same.

After drawing out enough for his supplies and a bit more for what he termed as _a rainy day_, Harry had then asked Barchoke about his family's finances and learned that the Potters were a wealthy family, but, due to his minor status, Harry would be unable to access the main vault until he'd turned seventeen and became Lord Potter.

After being given a rather painful warning about touching things that didn't belong to him, Severus wondered why it was that Harry couldn't touch his family's finances as the last son of his family: being in such regards meant that, by the old laws of heritage, a child could become emancipated and enter as an adult on his eleventh or thirteenth birthday.

However, all Harry had asked was that Barchoke keep a close eye on his vaults and send word to him immediately should anything come up that was…unusual.

Barchoke had agreed and thanked Harry for trusting him with his family's wealth, before the boy wizard had left with Professor Snape at his side, where, after speaking his opinion of Gringotts, Harry looked around before he asked, "Well then, where do we begin, Professor?"

"Madam Malkin's would be the most obvious choice, Mr Potter," Snape replied, watching as Harry crossed the street and entered the seamstress' shop, Snape following a few seconds later as he was still surprised at the calm, apathetic air about the so-called Boy-Who-Lived. However, when Severus entered the store and was greeted by Madam Malkin, he was surprised to catch sight of a familiar head of blonde hair in the reflection of the mirror in the back of the shop.

"If you would just step through here, young man," Madam Malkin explained, guiding Harry into the back where he did indeed come across another boy; a blonde-haired child with cold, seemingly-analysing eyes that looked him up and down as Harry stepped up onto the stool with Madam Malkin measuring his size.

Harry didn't pay any attention to the boy that was with him in the fitting room, but the boy seemed interested in him; he'd learned a long time ago that he had no real place in his life for friends and, if this boy was a Hogwarts student, then Harry would make him and the rest of his little gang do what he'd made the kids at the orphanage do.

Respect him…or better yet: _fear_ him!

"Good morning," the boy spoke up, not meeting Harry's gaze; partially because Harry's eyes never left the spot on the wall that he looked at while Madam Malkin measured and fitted his robes, "Hogwarts, too?"

"No, I'm shopping for a costume party," Harry replied, a slight hint of sarcasm rolling off his tongue, but he didn't let it disrupt his emotionless expression or personality.

"There's no need for such rudeness," the boy remarked; he had a cold, drawling voice that seemed to remind Harry of a few of the privileged children he'd met over the years with potential adoptions.

It looked like this boy needed a lesson just as much as they did, especially since he continued, "It's just any self-respecting member of our society wouldn't come here looking…well, like _you_ do: one of _their _lot, are you?"

"You seem to be under the impression that I give a hoot about what you think of me," Harry replied, lifting his arms so that a make-shift robe could be put over his head, the robe being adjusted to his size. "And, whatever you mean by _their_ lot, I can assure you that I am a wizard's son who had the misfortune of being raised among the weak, the worthless and the unwelcome: I believe you call them Muggles."

"Oh," gasped the boy, his eyes wide at the cold tone of Harry's voice: out in the shop's entrance, Snape shuddered as he felt a cold breeze bite at the nape of his neck: even with the heat, the shop wasn't _this_ cold. If that was who he thought it was, then Snape hoped that he would tread carefully.

Moving around, the man watched as Harry remained stoic while the boy at his side, his godson, one Draco Alexander Malfoy, continued speaking, "I apologise then: I didn't mean to offend you; my Father's next door getting my books and my Mother's gone to look at wands. After that, I'm going to take them to look at brooms: it seems unfair that first-years aren't allowed their own; still, I can probably smuggle it in somehow."

"Why would you want an ancient sweeping brush in a magical school?" asked Harry, his icy persona then giving Severus a realisation as to why the shop had suddenly gotten so cold. It was _magical_ and, from what he could see, hear and feel, the magic seemed to be coming from Harry while, at his side, Draco looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"What? You mean…you think we'd…oh," he shook his head, letting out a laugh before he added, "I like you: no, we don't use them for cleaning: heaven forbid; no, we use them for flying lessons and Quidditch."

'Thanks Draco,' thought Severus, 'Now Potter's going to spout off some hero-worshipping tirade about…'

"Why anyone would want to fly on things like that to break their neck, I do not know? Nor do I care," Harry added, the words surprising the Slytherin Head as he then asked the question, "What's your name, by the way?"

"Draco Malfoy," the boy replied and, for the first time, Snape thought he saw something akin to surprise cross the face of his future student; for a short second, Harry's eyes switched to Draco's face and his right eyebrow raised in curiosity. However, it didn't last long as he coughed and returned his attention to the front while Draco asked, "What's yours?"

"Harry James Potter," Harry replied, as though he was introducing himself to one of formal blood, "And before you spout off that ridiculous hero-worship that this world seems to have for me, let me tell you this: I am no-one's hero, I never was and I do not aim to be. As for Voldemort, he was a fool and an imbecile for choosing to hunt down my family: whatever power I used to defeat him will only be ten times more powerful should he wish to cross swords with me again."

Draco and Severus both shivered at the determination in the boy's voice: for a second, Severus considered thinking of Harry as some arrogant upstart, but there was no arrogance in the exclamation: he wasn't confident that he would overpower…the Dark Lord the next time they met: he was _vowing_ it and there wasn't a hint of fear or boasting.

Only cold, clean determination fixed with the air of someone who was sealing his fate and his destiny with one declaration.

Draco, glancing around the shop, then caught sight of his godfather in the corner of the fitting room, Severus inclining his head to Draco, who nodded at Harry and mouthed the question that Severus had asked himself before, "Who is he?"

Snape's answer was a warning shake of the head, but Harry, who was now paying attention to his robe, seemed more than willing to change the subject as he explained, "Madam Malkin, when my robes are ready, I'd like them to be crafted from your finest silks and fitted with any and all magical enhancements that will keep them safe and comfortable on me for a while to come. I am willing to pay any price for the full set and, other than my school robes, I would also appreciate a set of robes for everyday and informal wear in shades of green, midnight blue and black: can that be done?"

"Of course Mr Potter," Madam Malkin answered, stunned that the saviour of the wizarding world was so…different from everything people had hoped him to be. "The total will be around 150 Galleons and I can have them magically delivered to your residence upon completion of the robe-making."

Paying the amount, as Barchoke had given Harry a bottomless bag that allowed him to withdraw an amount straight from the vault, Harry paid the woman before he stepped down and, turning to Draco, he remarked calmly, "See you at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy."

"Good day to you, Harry Potter," Draco replied, Harry tipping an invisible hat to the boy before he left the shop with Professor Snape in tow, leaving Draco to ask it again, "Who are you, Harry Potter?"

**And so, there it is: Chapter 1 of my new Dark Harry story and it seems that this Harry takes no prisoners and can change from apathy to a mask of darkness in the blink of an eye: how will this change Hogwarts?**

**Also, can Draco find a way to help this new Harry open up to people or will he fall victim to the power of this dark soul?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Severus reveals to him about recognising 'Mariah' for who she really is; a story is told and an offer is made; also, as Harry prepares for Hogwarts, we learn a little more about how the Boy on the Light met one of the darkest witches in history and why Bellatrix left Tom in the first place**

**Please Read and Review…**


	2. Bellatrix's Story

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**EndlessChains: That's sort of how I wished to portray him when I first came up with the story, so thanks for noticing that;**

**Leonais Frostwind: Thanks for the compliment; I hope you enjoy the odd little tweaks I've made if you can actually remember the original;**

**StormyFireDragon: Thanks Storm: it's because of your support – amongst others – that this one came back;**

**Shannon Dee: He shouldn't and yet he still is…or still will be;**

_As Harry stepped past Severus, the Potions Master actually gulped as he felt the boy's magic ripple against the other two in the room: that aura, the presence of the affinity within it: there was no denying it._

_It was __Dark__ magic!_

_'Albus was right,' Severus thought as he followed Harry out of the orphanage and down towards a street where they could move off towards Diagon Alley, 'This is __no__ James Potter: especially not when he seems to be protected…by…by __her.__'_

Chapter 2: Bellatrix's Story

"Robes; check; Potions ingredients: check; cauldron: check; books: check; everyday items: check; trunk: check…and an interesting deal I got for that one, which just leaves…a wand; oh yes, and my owl."

"Then Ollivander's is our next port of call," Severus explained, Harry not even reacting to the information as he stepped into the shop, the presence of such magic forcing the boy to draw in a gasp of ecstasy before he looked around, his eyes closed for a moment and an expression of what could be described as…longing filling his face before, with a shudder, Harry returned his expression to its usual cold and bored look.

"How long are you going to stand there watching me like some sort of freak, Mr Ollivander?" asked Harry coldly, his eyes on a spot in the corner of the room where a grey-haired, silvery-eyed man emerged from the darkness, his own eyes wide with shock at the recognition from the boy in front of him. "I don't really have all day for these games, so what do you say we get on with this?"

"Of course, Mr Potter," Ollivander replied, moving off into the stacks while he spoke, "I did wonder when I would be seeing you in my store and, if I may be so bold, you are certainly more than what I expected. You may be aware that it is not you who choose the wand, but the wand that chooses the wizard: one never knows why these things happen, but that's the way it has been for as long as wizards have wielded their magic."

"Don't bet on it," Harry muttered, only Snape hearing the exclamation and, once again, he was surprised to hear the cold determination in Harry's voice: something was different about the son of Snape's enemy and it was more than the fact that the boy cared very little for show-boating and friendship.

No, in fact, dare he think it, but Severus could see a future Slytherin in Harry Potter: a situation that was normally cause for nightmares, but this time, it was like looking at the future in this boy.

Ollivander emerged from the stacks seconds later and handed Harry a case with a wand in it, "Here we are, Mr Potter: try this one: elm with unicorn horn; ten-and-a-quarter inches: springy, but strong: go on, give it a wave."

Harry didn't need to: no sooner had he touched the wand than the wood burned at his skin, though the boy showed no signs of pain or fear; instead, he threw the wand aside, the magical item landing with a clatter as he hissed, "Useless: try again."

Ollivander did…

And again…

And again…

And _again!_

In fact, it was over an hour before, with an actual cry of fury, Harry snapped, "Enough: it's clear that none of your selections are working: so why don't you step aside and let me look for myself?"

"Of…of course, Mr Potter," Ollivander gulped, watching as Harry moved around the counter and, stepping into the stacks, seemed to disappear just as the door to Ollivander's shop opened and, from in the stacks, Harry heard the man exclaim, "Ah, Mr Malfoy and young master Draco: welcome: my apologies for the state: it seems we're having a difficult time with this one."

"That doesn't surprise me, Ollivander," a calm voice answered the man, Harry picking up on a sense of apathy that almost matched his own; as he went deeper into the stacks, the voices became faint, but, after a few turns, Harry stopped, looked up and smiled coldly.

He'd found his wand.

Reaching up, Harry willed the box to fly from the top-most shelf and, while it would have been a surprise for anyone else, Harry just hummed in contentment as the box did indeed fly from the shelf where it landed in his hand.

"Found it," he announced, moving back through to the main part of the store; it was also there that he was re-introduced to Draco Malfoy, but with him was a tall man with the same colour hair as Draco and cold, calculating blue eyes.

He was dressed in a finely-tailored green robe that wrapped around his lithe frame perfectly. In one hand was a cane that held a metallic snake's head at the tip of the cane, but Harry smirked inwardly as he felt the magic coming from the cane: the man kept his wand there; clever…and oh so easy to fool people.

When the heads of those in the shop turned to look at him, Ollivander actually looked pale as Harry opened the case and, turning to the old man, he asked, "Well?"

"Y-Y-Yew," Ollivander stammered, his hands trembling as he held the case for Harry, "With solidified Serket's venom and phoenix tears: twelve inches: powerful…and dangerous: Mr Potter, I pray that this wand does not accept you."

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Ollivander," Harry replied flatly, drawing the wand from the case as though it was a sword; as he did so, his emerald-green eyes hardened their gaze and, for a second, his hair actually seemed to rise and stand on end as though it was caught in a static field, his breath escaping his lips with an almost ecstatic shudder.

Then, as soon as it happened, it was over and Harry nodded, "And this one chooses me: now, before we talk price, I was wondering if I may ask a request of you, sir?"

"Of…of course, Mr Potter," Ollivander sighed, regretting for a moment allowing the boy to choose the wand himself: the last time he'd done that was when another yew wand had been chosen and the owner of that wand had gone on to do terrible things.

"I would like a cane fashioned to act as a special holster for the wand," Harry explained, now looking to Draco's Father as he added, "Rather like your wand, sir: it seems a sneaky, but perfect way to conceal your weapon and catch your enemy unawares; I must say it is a pleasure to meet the Head of a Noble House, Mr Malfoy."

"The pleasure…is mine…Mr Potter," Mr Malfoy replied, extending his hand to Harry who shook it with a tightened grip, the eyes of the boy never leaving the head of the Malfoy Family's face.

"Lucius Malfoy: if you will forgive me," he drew Harry in and lifted his fringe with the tip of his cane, revealing the scar, though Harry's gaze hardened as Lucius added, "Your scar is legendary: as of course is the wizard that gave it to you."

"Voldemort was no legend," Harry replied icily, "He was a monster, a murderer and a weak man to fall to a baby who may as well have thrown his dirty diapers in his face to beat him! And one day, should a more grown-up me meet the man, I'll be sure to finish the job!"

"Brave," Lucius remarked, though his heart grew cold at the harsh tones of Harry's voice, "To mention the name and speak of such a…difficult destiny; or very foolish; either way, I admire your determination, Mr Potter. I daresay you have a future Slytherin here, Severus."

"Yes," Severus replied, Harry now removing himself from Lucius as he turned back to Ollivander.

"Well? Can it be done or not?"

"It can," Ollivander replied, "I can fashion a cane that will support you and also allow you to wield your magic through it without drawing your wand: the wood will be yew like your wand and it will need a clasp at the head: do you have a preferred design, Mr Potter?"

"Yes," Harry replied, his eyes on Ollivander as he spoke, "A dragon: Chinese or Eastern variety will do and I will even pay for it to be crafted of pure silver."

"I shall get to work right away, Mr Potter," Ollivander told him, Harry remaining in place as Lucius and Draco stepped forwards, Ollivander then adding, "It will…it will take some time, Mr Potter and the final amount will be 75 Galleons, which is mainly for the silver required for your design."

"Fifty," Harry interrupted him, folding his arms defiantly as he looked to the old man; at the same time, Lucius and Draco both shuddered as they felt an air of darkness to the boy that, for the elder Malfoy, was eerily familiar while the younger Malfoy thought he was looking at some sort of demon in human form. "Or do you honestly think me a mere boy that can be conned out of his money and his pride?"

"N-No," Ollivander told him, "F-fifty is an agreeable price: would you be able to call back in about an hour, Mr Potter?"

"I could," Harry replied, checking an imaginary watch as he added, "I could use a bite to eat anyway and have one last thing to acquire: is that satisfactory for you, Professor Snape?"

Snape nodded and, with a sweep of his coat, Harry left the shop, but not before the question of the day was now asked by Lucius as he looked to his old friend, "Who is he, Severus?"

"I wish I knew," Severus told him, his voice filled with shock as he added, "There's something else you should know, Lucius, but I dare not reveal it in case he does not want it revealed…not yet anyway."

"Of course," Lucius replied, "I understand: can you inform Mr Potter that he has a right to start a correspondence with Draco if he so wishes: I feel that it may not benefit the future for us to lose him."

"Believe me, Lucius," Severus explained, shuddering at the feeling of iciness that crawled over his skin, "I do not believe that we shall lose this new Harry Potter to anything save divine intervention: good day."

Lucius tipped his cane to Severus, the Potions Master making his way out of the store and down towards the Leaky Cauldron; stepping inside, the Potions Master found Harry sitting in a private booth, his arms folded and his eyes closed, his possessions nowhere to be seen.

Rather than question the student, Severus took a seat opposite Harry before he asked, "Have you ordered?"

"Do I look like someone who doesn't know how to order his food?" asked Harry and, seconds later, a plate of fresh fish and chips appeared in front of Harry while a bowl of beef stew appeared in front of Severus, "It's on me: don't get used to my generosity; I'm only doing this to thank you for your help today."

As they ate, Harry saying nothing more after his cold choice of words, Severus finally decided to deal with the dilemma that he'd been keeping in for some time: choosing a subject to use to approach it, he explained, "Lord Malfoy has extended an offer to correspond with his son before your Hogwarts education begins."

"That's nice," Harry replied flatly, his tone showing he didn't mean it: by the gods, did this child have respect for anyone?

"His family's older than you may think," Severus told him, his eyes on Harry, who was busy cutting into his food with the practice and etiquette of someone who'd been taught from birth. "And it has many surrogate branches: the Blacks, the Tonks' and…the Lestranges."

"Really?" asked Harry, now taking a bite from his fish as he asked, "And why would I be so concerned with the family of a rather proud gentleman like Mr Malfoy?"

"Because you know one of them," Severus told him and Harry chose that moment to drop his fork onto the plate, "I know you do."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Harry, Severus then aware of a rippling sensation around him: was this…his magic?

"Your friend Mariah," Severus explained, "I know who she really is, Mr Potter: I knew her as a child and teenager; I'd recognise her effect on people anywhere: I know she's…" he glanced around before lowering his voice and adding, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

The reaction happened so quickly that Severus didn't even have time to blink: one second, he was speaking and the next thing he knew, he was staring down the end of a sharpened knife, the weapon hovering without any magical assistance, but it was hovering.

"What do you want?" asked Harry, a feral growl to his voice as he stared at Severus with cold, dead eyes, "I won't let anyone take me from her: she's my only friend, my only family and the only person I trust: so, what do you want?"

"I want…to know why," Severus explained, his voice calm as he looked past the knife to Harry: he sounded sad and scared, but his face showed rage and fury that held back tears with almost inhuman perfection: it was like the boy had forgotten how to cry. "Why is she looking out for you and what does she do for you?"

"More than you think," Harry replied, though he didn't lower the knife, "But if you want to know, then I want something from you: a wizard's oath that you will never repeat this to anyone…and I mean _anyone!_"

Severus knew that he was taking a big risk here: this was no James Potter, he saw that now and, if Harry said that he wouldn't let anyone separate him from her, then he meant it.

It also meant that the boy clearly had a control over his magic beyond any other eleven year old and, if Severus wanted to know the truth, then he had to put his life and magic in the hands of this boy. It was a move worthy of a Slytherin, but at the same time, it was with a sense of smartness to him that had Severus wondering just how much Harry Potter knew, particularly with a certain debt between him and James Potter.

If Harry knew of the debt, he could kill Severus within the span of a heart-beat and, if he didn't, then Severus had to do everything he could to show Harry that he was trustworthy.

Technically, he was already doing that with the life-debt he owed James Potter, but he wouldn't coddle the boy: no, he'd watch him from afar and offer help when Harry asked for it. If the boy became a Slytherin, then that was just something that Severus would have to tolerate: there was no other option.

He swore his oath…

Leaning back, Harry sighed deeply before he explained, "Now, to know the beginning, we have to go all the way back: to how I ended up at St Christopher's when I clearly should have been raised by…by…_them!_"

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

_Nine Years Ago…Harry's POV_

When a child cries, it is usually a signal for their parents or guardians to see what they need to be quiet and content once again: however, when two-year-old Harry Potter cried, he was only answered by the same response, "SHUT UP! YOU CAN CRY ALL DAY IF YOU WANT, BUT WE DON'T WANT YOU!"

How was a two-year-old supposed to understand that?

Instead, Harry's guardians just left him; cold, hungry, dirty and in such a state that any normal person wouldn't leave the lowest of animals in;

However, what they didn't know was that someone was watching…

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

_Bella's POV…_

She was hiding;

Ever since the Dark Lord had been destroyed by the Potter boy, Bellatrix Lestrange had been running: why? She didn't really know, but everywhere that she went, she'd heard the same words: Bellatrix Lestrange was to be arrested on sight for the torture of the Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice.

The only thing that kept her going was her conviction: Bellatrix knew that she was innocent and, after the Dark Lord had fallen, she'd gone through her family's archives until she'd found it.

A way to remove the Dark Mark from her arm…but she had a reason other than the fact that she was an innocent woman for her crimes: When the Dark Lord had attacked the Potters, Bellatrix had been there, knowing that he was there to stop someone who believably had the power to destroy him; he'd killed the Potter male and then gone to take out the woman, but, from where she'd been hiding, Bellatrix had listened as he'd threatened a child.

A little boy!

Even now, Bellatrix let her mind drift back to the feelings she'd had following _His_ execution:

_Flashback Start_

"_Not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_Bellatrix cackled to herself as she saw the filthy Mudblood spawn, Lily Potter, begging for her life: as if the Dark Lord would actually care for such an insignificant little whelp as a baby._

"_Stand aside you silly girl," Voldemort demanded, his voice startling Bellatrix as she saw his eyes dart to the small baby boy now awake and watching from his crib, "You need not die: Lord Voldemort is merciful: give me the boy and you shall be allowed to live."_

_Bellatrix couldn't believe what she was hearing: the Dark Lord, the most feared wizard in history, was apparently determined to end the life of an innocent baby before he had a chance to live himself. This was wrong on _so_ many levels: even the darkest of wizards chose not to go after children, or at the very least not a baby or toddler; it was in that moment that Bellatrix had seen the true face of evil…and she didn't like what she saw._

_Backing away from the Dark Lord with an apparent intention to backtrack and make sure that nobody stopped her Lord from doing what he'd come to do, Bellatrix watched as the Mudblood was murdered, her son's name, Harry, being the dying scream that she gave out in the final moments. At the same time, Bellatrix also saw something akin to a glow of magic surround the child and, as the Dark Lord raised his wand, she heard the curse one more time._

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_Bellatrix would never forget what happened next: the glow that had surrounded the child caused the power of the Killing Curse to rebound onto the Dark Lord, turning his body into little more than a cloud of ashes and pained screams. At the same time, the dark witch saw a small fraction of the Dark Lord's magic apparently pin itself to the child's forehead, taking the shape of a bolt of lightning._

_Sensing other magical presences nearby, Bellatrix did the only thing she could: she turned and fled into the night…_

_But she did _not_ promise that this would be her last encounter with Harry James Potter…_

_Flashback End_

After fleeing into the night, Bellatrix had renounced her title as a Death Eater and abandoned her husband and brother-in-law for a hopeful life of peace. She'd gotten rid of everything that was her, taking time to search the Black Family Archives to find a way to remove the Dark Mark from her arm, and then, upon finding her family's archives, she'd learned the one gift that most of her female family members had inherited: Metamorphmagic!

Changing into a different person had been surprisingly easy, but then had come the hard part: for when the Dark Lord had been destroyed, Bellatrix had felt a need to find and protect the child, perhaps even begin to raise him to be the sort of warrior that her parents would be proud of.

At the same time, Bellatrix found her way out of the Dark Mark: a risky, life-or-death way, but one that she was prepared to do for the future she envisioned:

At the stroke of midnight on the day of the Summer Solstice, Bellatrix gathered everything she would need for the ritual and began to work through the darkest of arts to rid herself of her ties to Tom Riddle forever.

The rite involved cutting open her wrists and letting her blood flow to the point where the body believed that it was near death: then, with the reversal of the incantation used to print the Mark onto her skin and a mix of manticore's venom and a tear from a phoenix, Bellatrix's wish was granted.

It hurt like hell and, for a moment, as she gave the command of the spell – Erdromsrom, or _Morsmordre_ backwards – Bellatrix feared that she wouldn't survive the ritual.

What made her hold onto her resolve and determination to succeed was the thought of the young child that had nearly been killed by the Dark Lord: he would be treated as some sort of idol on a platform by the magical world, but no child deserved such falsehoods. No, he deserved a normal family, a normal life and a childhood full of magic, teachings and one whom would die to protect him just as much as…

The thought made Bellatrix laugh as she completed the ritual, 'Just as much as that Mud…as Lily Potter did: funny, I never thought I'd see the day I actually avoided using that term…guess I have to admire her restraint and desire to protect him.'

It took Bellatrix three days to recover from the ritual upon its completion, but once she did, the dark witch made it her top priority to seek out the child and take care of him herself. However, upon finding him, with _Muggles_ of all people, Bellatrix had discovered that he was meant to be safe and, instead, he was being treated like nothing more than filth.

At the same time, Bellatrix saw that these Muggles had another child that they treated like a little prince while young Harry was known as Boy, Freak and also _beaten _for things that weren't his fault.

That _had_ to change and, in the winter of the child's first year with those accursed Muggles, it did happen: Bellatrix heard the screams and wails of the child and, deep inside her, her heart broke and she couldn't take it any longer.

She couldn't wait another day: how much longer could a little boy like that survive without the necessary protections?

Crossing the street from the house she'd acquired to keep up the disguise, Bellatrix had unlocked the door and stepped inside, where she'd found the child alone and hungry; conjuring a bottle and a fresh change of clothes for him, she'd fed him all he could take and then, beginning to settle the child down again, Bellatrix had felt it.

Heat: life-threatening heat that surged through the child's body, giving his cheeks a pale, but reddened look: the signs of a childhood fever…and those accursed Muggles were doing nothing to protect him.

They were leaving him for dead and not bothering to care: Bellatrix wouldn't have that: time was, she would _slaughter_ anyone who tried to treat any child of their own like this, but Harry Potter, a boy who was apparently protected: no, Bellatrix wouldn't have this at all.

Making a promise to repay these Muggles' _kindnesses_ in due course, she gathered the child in her arms, before she spun on the spot, Apparating to a place that could look after the child: she was surprised when she found herself outside an orphanage.

St Christopher's Orphanage for Boys: was it fate?

Whatever it was, she wasn't about to ignore it; looking to the child in her arms, she smiled before approaching the door and, knocking furiously, watched as an elderly man opened the door, his eyes wide as he exclaimed, "Oh; madam, what is this?"

"Please," Bellatrix pleaded, her guise as the different woman helping to hide her identity, "This child: I found him left alone: they…they wouldn't help him; they wanted him dead."

"Easy now," the man told her, stepping aside as he explained, "Bring the child in…and you too, Miss?"

"Mariah," Bellatrix answered, remembering the name she'd given herself when she'd gone into hiding, "Mariah McKnight."

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

_Four-And-A-Half Years Ago…Harry/Bella's POV_

"FREAK!"

"LOSER!"

"Nobody wants something like you wrecking their lives!"

"You're all alone…Mummy and Daddy died because they…AHHH!"

Mariah McKnight looked up from her place on the front porch of St Christopher's as she heard the screams: even without hazarding a guess, she knew where they were coming from.

With a sigh, she rose and moved around, where an average-sized bundle of black hair met her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he sobbed into her coat.

"Harry," Mariah whispered, kneeling down and looking into the green eyes of the boy she'd brought to the orphanage, "What's wrong, little one?"

"It happened again, Mariah," Harry sobbed, fidgeting with the collar of his t-shirt, "I…I tried to stop, but…but they talked 'bout my Mummy."

"Hush, child," Mariah whispered, keeping the boy close to her; lifting him up, she carried him around to the side of the house where she saw the damage: it seemed that the magic in him had helped this time as two of the older boys from the home were dangling by their ankles, though they were being held by ropes of thick barbed vegetation, blood running down their legs.

Covering Harry's eyes, though she knew that the time was coming where, like her former self, he would actually _enjoy_ seeing such pain, Mariah whispered, "They deserved it, Harry: never forget that…but, I think you're old enough now."

"For wha'?" asked Harry, keeping his head close to Mariah as she led him up to his room, the view from the window helping to calm the child; in fact, as soon as he was let down, Mariah watched as he moved to the window and just sat there.

Ever since she'd first talked with him, Mariah had known that this room, away from the others and with a view so picturesque and private that it was like he could release his worries onto the wind, was his sanctuary.

Every time he'd used Accidental Magic, be it in offense or defence of his legacy or just because he was angry or scared, Harry had come here, wanting to be alone with his thoughts.

But now, with such pain caused by him, Mariah knew: it was the right time: clearing her throat, Mariah closed the door before she asked, "Harry, you trust me, don't you?"

"Of course," Harry replied, Mariah moving around to sit with him at his window, "I trust only you, Mariah: you brought me here when no-one loved me; the others get adopted, but not me…cos…cause I'm…a freak."

"No you're not," Mariah told him, taking his hand as she continued, "You're a special little boy, Harry with very special powers: you can use magic! And guess what?"

"What?" asked Harry, slightly awed at the mention of magic: somehow, he just seemed to know that she wasn't talking about rabbits out of hats and paper strings of handkerchiefs.

"So can I," she told him, before she changed her face back into that of Bellatrix Lestrange, her eyes as gentle as Mariah's had been as she told him, "And if you want, Harry, I'll teach you about your magic: you'll be stronger than everyone else down there and I will never leave you alone. You don't have to let others in; just me: I'll teach you everything I know and everything you _want_ to know until you become the most powerful wizard of your age."

"Really?" asked Harry, his emerald eyes shining brightly as he looked to Bellatrix: he wasn't even scared that the Mariah he'd come to know and love was replaced by this stranger. "Do…do others have this…magic?"

"No," Bellatrix laughed, "You and I are the only ones, Harry: we have powers greater than them and they don't deserve to call you those names; they don't even deserve to call you friend. In fact, Muggle filth like them and your idiot relatives deserve to call you one thing."

"What?" asked Harry, before he gasped as Bellatrix leaned around his ear and whispered a word that changed his life:

"Master."

"Master?" asked Harry, his eyes suddenly losing their shine and being replaced by a glint of amusement and wanton liking, "I think I could like that, but, what about you? Who are you?"

"The Muggles know me as Mariah," Bellatrix explained, "And when I look like that around you and around others, I'd like you to call me that, but, my real name is Bellatrix Lestrange and I am here to protect and look after you, Harry Potter. For as long as you want me to be here."

Harry's smile was like that of a shark smelling blood in the water as he asked, "When…when can I start learning?"

"Right now," Bellatrix explained, before she reached into her robe and withdrew a wrapped present, the first gift that Harry ever received; opening it, he saw a long black stick that radiated power; as he picked it up, he felt a spark shoot through him and, deep inside him, something awoke: an ancient, dark something that only seemed to feed Harry's hunger for knowledge and power.

"What?" he asked, Bellatrix nodding as though she'd accomplished something great.

"It's a wand, Harry," she explained, "Wizards and witches use them to cast spells and channel their magic: this one is now yours and I want you to use it only in here; in time, I'll teach you about wielding magic without a wand, but for now, you'll need this. Now this particular wand, as each one is different, is made of hawthorn, nightshade and mercury: a dark and powerful combination that is perfect for you, Harry. Do you like it?"

"I…do," Harry replied calmly, his gaze switching to Bellatrix as he asked, "Can…can you teach me a spell?"

And so, it had begun…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Severus felt an air of shock rise up in him as he considered what he was hearing: Bellatrix had protected Harry and seemed to admire him with a maternal liking that had changed the once-deranged witch into a caring, but cautious young woman who doted on Harry and made sure he was able to learn as much as he wanted about magic.

As the story finished, the Potions Master then noticed that Harry had also finished his meal and was leaning back in his seat, his hands resting calmly on his stomach while, from under his dark-haired fringe, his emerald-green eyes inspected Severus with a coldness that made the man's blood turn to ice.

"Ever since that day," Harry explained, his tone calm, but cold, "The Muggle fodder that I called my house-mates and fellow orphaned adoptees had wanted and waited for the chance to be a part of a family. But I don't need family: Bellatrix is all that I need and I won't let anyone, not you, not Dumbledore, not even the Ministry take her from me. So I hope that you understand my warning to you, Professor Severus Tobias Snape."

"I understand," Severus replied, earning a scoff from the boy as he checked a clock behind the bar of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Good," he sighed, before looking back to Severus as he added, "Because I'd hate to waste perfectly good magic on something as trivial as your execution."

**Chapter 2 and Harry has sent a warning to Severus while also using his new power for an emphasis on his new self: how will this change Hogwarts?**

**Plus, what can former **_**allies**_** of Bellatrix do to try and help our young anti-hero considering his warning about taking him from her and vice-versa?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry ventures to Hogwarts where he reunites with Draco, reveals a surprising means to keep him in the apathetic mind-set he holds dear and also makes an enemy of…guess who; plus, Hermione makes her debut and she's a little like Harry with her way of magic and knowing more about it…this will make things interesting to say the least…**

**Please Read and Review…**


	3. Snake Bite

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**EndlessChains: I'm going to have a bit of a backstory for Hermione when Harry approaches her, but I thank you for your kind words about what I've written;**

**Guest: It's not the first time I've used it, but it was such a cold line to end on that it was perfect;**

"_Ever since that day," Harry explained, his tone calm, but cold, "The Muggle fodder that I called my house-mates and fellow orphaned adoptees had wanted and waited for the chance to be a part of a family. But I don't need family: Bellatrix is all that I need and I won't let anyone, not you, not Dumbledore, not even the Ministry take her from me. So I hope that you understand my warning to you, Professor Severus Tobias Snape."_

"_I understand," Severus replied, earning a scoff from the boy as he checked a clock behind the bar of the Leaky Cauldron._

"_Good," he sighed, before looking back to Severus as he added, "Because I'd hate to waste perfectly good magic on something as trivial as your execution."_

Chapter 3: Snake Bite

The first day of a new school term is filled with different emotions: for some, it's the fear and anxieties of having to make new friends or fit in with the right crowds; for others, it's excitement and anticipation of seeing old friends and making new ones. Then there are the feelings of worry, sadness, homesickness and a hint of hope: hope for making a fresh start or choosing the right decisions with what you do from here on in.

However, while there were students that felt those emotions, Harry did not: instead, he wandered through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, his eyes as hard as ever as he looked upon the Hogwarts Express for the first time in his life. After a short second, Harry wandered down the platform until he found an empty compartment towards the very end of the train where he could sit without being disturbed…or so he hoped.

Placing his trunk and the cage containing his new owl, a rather beautiful, but intimidating-looking snowy owl that he'd named Hedwig, into the overhead compartment, Harry climbed on-board and settled into his seat, folding his arms and closing his eyes.

Sure, he could have gone to take a look at the other students and seen what kind of person attended the school, but the fact of the matter was that he just couldn't be bothered.

If any were stupid enough to try and befriend him just on the basis that he was the so-called Boy-Who-Lived, he'd be sure to send them running in the opposite direction: he wasn't going to Hogwarts to make friends; no, he was going there to prove something: that there was a reason he was so cold and callous.

When the whistle sounded at eleven o clock, Harry didn't even react, though he coughed once when the train shuddered before starting on its journey out of London; just sat there, eyes closed and mind as relaxed as ever, Harry thought about the past month's changes.

Learning from the books had proven to be next to useless, but thankfully, Harry had Bellatrix to help him learn more about his real power and, when he showed her his new wand, she was impressed that such a dark-attributed wand like his had bonded with his magic.

Their lessons had continued after Severus had left them alone, though Harry had warned Bellatrix that Severus knew who she really was; her reaction had been an interested laugh before she'd instructed her ward, "Keep a close eye on him, Harry: should he choose to betray us, you will have to silence him."

Harry had chosen that moment to inform her about the oath he'd had the professor swear and Bella had been pleased by his actions: she'd said that he was thinking not like a student, but a pure-bred master of the game.

By forcing the man to swear his oath, Harry had all but ensured that Severus couldn't speak of their meeting or the events in Diagon Alley without his official consent: not that he was going to give it either.

Now, with September first here and Harry in the right frame of mind to begin proving to the other members of the school that he was many things, but he wasn't a pushover, the young wizard knew that he would only get one chance. If he wasted it, then these weaker wizards would take advantage of him and seek to use him for their own gains, just like the whimpering little bugs that lived with him in the children's home.

It was for this reason that Harry knew that he wasn't here to make friends: to him, a friend was just someone that was a potential member of the circle that he would build: a legion of warriors with him as its commander.

Anyone else was just carrion for the vultures to snack on…

A sharp pull on the door to Harry's compartment cut off his train of thought; opening his eyes, Harry scowled as he saw a red-haired boy that held a real dumb look about him.

For a second, the boy adopted an envious look at the sight of Harry's new equipment and top-fashioned school robes, but the look seemed to vanish as he asked, "Sorry, do you mind? It's just…everywhere else is full."

Harry knew that to be a lie and yet he said nothing; however, the poorly-acting little brat didn't take the hint that Harry didn't want company as he instead chose to take the silent answer as an invitation.

Sitting opposite Harry, the boy gave a smile that Harry didn't return, but the worse wasn't done yet as the boy explained, "I'm Ron, by the way: Ron Weasley."

Harry said nothing;

"I'm the sixth of my family's kids to go to Hogwarts; each one of us was a member of Gryffindor."

Harry said nothing;

"It's going to be really cool this year; I heard that Harry Potter was coming: I bet he's going to be a Gryffindor like his parents and…"

"Don't you ever shut up?" asked Harry, finally breaking his silence with the mention that this was someone who seemed to think that Harry was just like his parents: how dense, or subtle, could this loud-mouthed idiot be?

"Sorry mate," Ron told him, apparently unnerved by Harry's cold tone, "But I just thought…"

"You should do the world a favour and don't think," Harry scowled, his cold gaze bringing new thanks to the opinion of how looks could kill: it was a good thing they couldn't. "You ask me if I want company, which I don't; then lie about everywhere else being full when there are seven years of students on this train and each of them able to find somewhere calm and quiet to sit, so, ergo, the train's _never_ full. After that, you blather on about your family as though I'm meant to give a rat's ass about anyone else's opinion and, above all that, you _never_ stop talking!"

"Okay, okay," Ron sighed, "Merlin; anyone would think you were one of those slimy snakes with your attitude! I was only trying to be friendly."

"I don't need friends," Harry hissed, his hands curled into fists as he added, "I think it would be in your best interests to leave now, Mr Weasley."

"And who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?" asked Ron, eyeing Harry like a hungry lion would a ripe and plump piece of meat.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied calmly, his expression like stone as he added, "And I don't care about what my parents were like because, in case you forget, they're dead. So, do me a favour, would you Weasley? Go away."

"Ha-ha, very funny, Harry," Ron laughed, Harry shaking his head while he tried his best to rein in his magic: couldn't this tomato-haired weasel take a hint? "Not care about your parents: say, is it true what they say? I mean, do you really have the…the…you know?"

He indicated his forehead, but Harry wasn't going to bite: instead, he answered Ron, "The…what? Forehead? Yes, I do believe everyone has one of them; useful for holding our brains and common sense…not that you seem to have any."

"I'm talking about the bleeding scar," Ron insisted, Harry sensing victory as he heard the frustration in the arrogant little git's voice, "From the night they died? Do you have the bloody scar or not?"

"Do I look like a monkey at the zoo?" asked Harry, now rising and, moving to the door, he opened it again before he told Ron, "Now, I offered it to you first, but now I'm telling you: leave this compartment and don't ever think of speaking to me again. Oh, and we're not _mates_; as for slimy snakes, I can guess you're referring to Slytherin House, but, for your information, snakes aren't slimy: their bellies are damp as are their scales when they're in water. Other times…not so much: now, get out and don't come anywhere near me unless I _allow_ you to, do you understand me?"

His voice had become steadily harder and almost growling as he'd finished asking his question; at the same time, the air around them became cold and edged by a ripple of magic that Harry was trying his best to keep sealed inside as he waited for the brain-dead Gryffindor worshipper to get the message.

Ron, meanwhile, looked somewhere between shocked and unable to comprehend the message: instead, he asked, "Harry, why are you being like this? Don't you care about your parents' legacies or anything like that? And what's with the attitude? You get raised by wolves or something?"

"Keep pushing my buttons and you'll find out, Weasley," Harry growled, his gaze now as cold and hard as the gems that his eyes represented, "Now leave…or I will make you!"

"Fine!" Ron snapped, seemingly getting the message as he exclaimed, "I don't know why I bothered trying to get to know a psycho like you anyway: whoever you are, Harry Potter you're not. The Boy-Who-Lived wouldn't be such a monster, especially when someone else is trying to help him."

"Monster?" asked Harry, memories of his torment at the hand of the older children coming back to him; shaking his head, he let out a real serpentine hiss as he whispered, "Poor choice in words, Weasley!"

With that, Harry lashed out with his magic, the force of the push sending Ron through the door and crashing into the wall, the back of his head cracking against the wood where the little lion cried like a baby; Harry, meanwhile, gave him a stern warning, "Cross me again and it'll be more than your skull that I crack. Oh…and…" he drew his hawthorn wand from a hidden holster before he lifted it and, with a cold laugh, he added, "I doubt you'll be saying anything about this: you'll say that you fell in trying to run away from this end of the train; I would have helped you, but guess what, Mr Weasley? I'm a Slytherin!"

"Slimy snake," Ron hissed, staggering away from Harry, who felt an air of victory for what he'd done; as he returned to his compartment, his wand being returned to the hidden holster under his robe, Harry sighed and, closing the door, looked to his owl before he stroked her feathers.

"Maybe I can actually have a quiet ride now, Hedwig," he told her, before returning to his calm-minded position as the train continued onwards to Hogwarts.

Thankfully for the student body of Hogwarts, Harry wasn't disturbed for the remainder of the journey…

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

As the train neared the end of the journey, Harry changed out of his casual robes and into his Hogwarts robes, making sure to keep his second wand hidden from sight as he did so; it was getting fairly dark outside, but Harry wasn't fazed by the change. He was used to the darkness now: he liked it as it seemed to provide an air of protection to the world: the world of the day being set aside for the world of the night.

Finally, as Harry followed the students towards the exits on the train, they reached their destination and, as he climbed down, Harry heard a familiar voice call in his direction, "Harry, there you are: I've been looking all over the train for you."

Following the voice, as well as a large shadow that called for the first years, Harry found Draco looking relieved to see him; with a scoff, Harry answered his potential advocate, "You clearly didn't look hard enough, Draco: and next time you point me out to a crowd, would you shout a little louder? I don't think they heard you in Beijing."

"Sorry," Draco gulped, recognising that what he'd seen in Diagon Alley was no fluke: Harry Potter was a genuine soul of the darkness, "I…I just meant that I didn't…I didn't hear from you after our meeting. Did you get the letters that Father sent you?"

"I did and I thank him for his correspondence," Harry told Draco, his voice as cold as ever as they followed the giant man along a narrow path with the other first-years, "But I tried to tell you in the alleys: I have no desire for friends, nor do I need them."

"I understand that," Draco explained, each of the first-years now being led into a fleet of small boats on the edge of a large lake, "But, well, if you are what I think you are and you're going to…well, to Slytherin, then I just want you to know that I've got your back. Slytherins stand together, after all: I won't ask questions that you don't want to answer and I won't try to change you. I just want you to know that there is someone here that you can speak to if and when you need to."

"Keep up this wanting to be friends act," Harry growled, "And you'll find yourself swimming across the lake: don't you get it, Draco? We met; yes, but I have no desire to take it further: I choose to be alone and I hope that a noble heir like you can respect that: if not…then move to another boat."

Draco shivered with discomfort: something was wrong with this picture even if was more than the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived was a cold, callous individual: his Father had told him to try and keep close to Harry, but the boy was so closed off from everyone else that getting close would be a challenge for Draco.

It was clear that, with the exception of his guardian, whoever that was, Harry trusted no-one and nothing that wasn't under his control and sought only his own powers and his own victory: in a way, he was, as Severus had noticed, a perfect Slytherin.

However, even a Slytherin couldn't stand on his own two feet for seven years without some form of companionship: Draco knew that he couldn't force Harry, not if he wanted a chance to get close, but, on the other hand, if Harry wouldn't let people in…then there may be no other choice.

As the first-years were left by the giant in the company of a woman that was introduced as Professor McGonagall, Draco glanced around the other first-years, trying to find a common ground where Harry would feel comfortable. Most of the pureblood families' sons and daughters were here, but, out of those members, only a few would become Slytherins.

There was the Nott Heir and the Zabini Heir, both of whom were perfect candidates for Harry's go-to-guy: the one that would watch the back of the young wizard and act as he commanded.

On the other side of that, there were the heiresses of the Davis, Bulstrode and Greengrass families, all of whom looked like natural Slytherins, though it was the blonde-haired Greengrass Heiress that drew Draco's attention the most. If he could get her close to Harry, then it may be possible for the apathetic boy who lived to fuel some of that iciness into her: a real Ice Prince and Princess of Slytherin if there ever was one.

To argue against that, however, Draco had to remember Harry's somewhat hard-edged warning about him choosing to be alone and not needing any friends: it would be hard to introduce the chosen few to him with that cold attitude. Perhaps, though he was raised to do otherwise, but Draco actually wondered if he should submit himself to Harry and choose to follow his lead.

Not as a friend, but an ally, a tool even: someone that Harry could rely on to risk their neck for him and do his bidding: in time, Draco may even become to Harry what his Father was to the Dark Lord: his right-hand and second in command.

'Slytherins stand together,' Draco thought, clenching his fists as he and the other first-years were led into the Great Hall, 'And Harry is going to become a Slytherin: it looks like there is no alternate plan.'

After a quick introductory speech from the headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, the first-years gathered and waited with anticipation as Professor McGonagall began calling out names. As Draco had suspected, the children of the Davis, Bulstrode and Greengrass families all went to Slytherin as did two that Draco knew from infancy: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle; two that were meant to be guards for Draco, but he'd shot that idea down immediately.

When Draco was called up, the hat had barely touched his head before it declared him a Slytherin and, as the Malfoy Heir walked past Harry, he had to shiver as those cold emerald-green eyes met his, the sorting continuing through the remainder of the names until, at long last, Harry's name was called and he walked up to the hat amidst a sea of whispers and pointing fingers.

Harry sat under the hat, his body firm and confident in posture as he waited; finally, a voice whispered in his ear, "My, my; such an interesting mind you possess, Mr Potter: yes, I see plenty of courage and a mind that yearns for more; but, against that, I see talent, a thirst for power and a desire for solitude and the right to invoke fear in others. My; how you remind me of another that I sorted a long time ago; as much as they would wish it, there's only one house for someone with this level of potential: you know where, don't you, Mr Potter?"

"Yes," whispered Harry, his own hands clenching into fists as he added, "But if you're talking about Gryffindor, then I can only hope that you have enjoyed your life as a hat, because all that will be left of you is ashes."

"No need for the threat, Mr Potter," the hat told him, "I would never dream of sorting you there; no, you're too great for that House: your desire to walk through your own destiny proves that to me. No, I know that you belong in the house that matches your magic: SLYTHERIN!"

With a sense of finality, Harry left the hat with a shocked McGonagall before he rose and walked with pride and determination towards the Slytherin Table; however, as he did so, a sound rose on the winds and entered his ears: a sound that he wasn't used to.

Clapping; applause and congratulations filled Harry's ears as he took his seat with the snakes, the young Malfoy, who was sat on Harry's right with a blonde-haired girl that Harry remembered to be named Daphne Greengrass on his left, standing and, with a nod of his head, he told Harry, "Welcome home, Harry Potter."

Harry said nothing: choosing instead to take his seat, he answered Draco's cheerful welcome, "Remember what I told you on the platform, Draco: I do not wish friends; leave me alone and Slytherin will have no problems."

Draco gulped, but nodded as he explained, "You may not want friends, Harry, but I want you to know that I have got your back: anything you need, just let me know."

Again, Harry said nothing: instead, he watched as the Weasley boy from before was sorted into Gryffindor before a dark-skinned boy named Blaise Zabini was the last addition to Slytherin, the sorting coming to a close and, with a few choice words from Dumbledore, the feast began.

As the students helped themselves to their meal, Draco watched as Harry gathered what looked to be a well-balanced amount of food and drink before, with the precision and manners of nobility, he began to eat.

While talk began amongst the Slytherins, most of the words directed in Harry's general direction, the new Slytherin said and did nothing to react to them: instead, as soon as he'd finished, he closed his eyes and waited, Draco actually having to clear his throat before he asked, "Do you want some dessert, Harry?"

Unlike the cakes and ice-cream that most of the Slytherins helped themselves to, Harry chose a rather healthy-looking fruit salad and, as he ate, he finally broke his silence as he muttered, "My compliments to the chef."

A loud laugh broke from the other end of the table, prompting Harry to look up, his eyes filled with distaste as he looked upon a weedy-looking boy with dark brown hair and dark blue eyes; from the sorting, Harry remembered him to be called Theodore Nott. With a pick at a piece of apple, Harry asked, "What's so funny, Nott?"

"A chef doesn't cook this stuff," laughed Nott, "House Elves do: you know? The servants and messengers of the pureblood houses? Still, I can't expect a half-blood son of a Mud…"

He didn't get to finish and, as most of the Slytherins looked to him, they saw why: Nott's throat had suddenly become clogged with what seemed to be a large piece of the cake that he was eating, the weedy boy grasping at his throat while, across from him, Harry gave a sneer that would have had Snape admitting defeat. Drawing his yew wand, he muttered, "_Anapneo: _be more careful what food you eat, Nott."

With a gasp like that of a drowning man, Nott doubled over in shock, his eyes wide with terror while, next to Harry, Daphne Greengrass nodded to Harry before she looked to Draco and asked, "Did…did _he_ do that?"

"I'd say no," Draco mouthed back, his voice just above a whisper so she could hear him, "But there's no telling what he can and can't do: Nott insults his bloodline and then chokes? I doubt it was a coincidence."

"Draco," gasped Daphne, "Who in Salazar's name is he?"

"Harry James Potter," Harry replied in his apathetic tone, his eyes now on Daphne as he told her, "And I would thank you not to speak about me in the wrong sort of way while I can hear and see your lips moving, Heiress Greengrass. Also, I can assure you that, while I did know of the spell to clear Mr Nott's airwaves, his choking in the first place was…a tragic accident."

Draco and Daphne didn't believe him for a second, but Draco shot Daphne a warning look that told her it would be wrong for her to try and make some sort of retort in Harry's direction.

If he was responsible for the choking of Theo Nott, then it was clear to both snakes that any blood discrimination would be coming to a rapid close in the Snake Pit…

Though he may not have known it, Harry Potter had just changed Slytherin House's entire logic…and it was only his first day.

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

After the feast, the Slytherins were led by their prefects down to the dungeons where, after being informed of a monthly change in password, they were shown into the Slytherin Common Room and told that their dorms – or in this case, the new dorms – were set in threes and there was no changing it.

Sensing an opportunity, Draco attracted the attention of the Zabini Heir before both of them approached Harry, Draco clearing his throat as he asked, "What do you say, Harry? I already know a little about you and Blaise is one of the few neutrals in here; us three together?"

"Fine," Harry told him, before wandering down the corridor, Blaise looking to Draco with an expression like he'd seen a ghost; shaking his head in response, Draco moved after Harry, all three coming to the dorm: inside were three majestic four-poster beds with their trunks at the foot of each bed. Green and silver curtains concealed the beds, but revealed a Slytherin-coloured bedspread that had warming charms placed on the beds for each student.

"Looks like you get the darkest area, Harry," Draco remarked, though Harry just moved and, kneeling down, he opened his trunk before retrieving his night clothes and, to Draco and Blaise's bemusement, what looked like a sapphire crystal, which he set upon the bed-side cabinet on the right side of his bed.

As he rose again, Harry addressed both Slytherins, "My trunk can only be opened by me and I know every item inside: touch it or think about opening it without my permission and you will know about it."

Both of his dorm-mates nodded before Harry, tapping the crystal with his wand, muttered, "_Lumera Musica Terras_."

At his command, a soothing harp-like tune began to play from within the crystal and, at the same time, what looked like a fibre-optic orb started to weave mysterious, relaxing shapes of light within the sapphire, Harry seemingly losing some of his coldness as he heaved a relaxed sigh.

Sealing his trunk again, the young Slytherin went to get changed, emerging only seconds later where he looked to an awed Draco and a slightly frightened Blaise.

Shaking his head, Harry decided to deal with this problem before his new companions entered uncharted waters; walking over to them, he explained, "Look: I don't trust easily, I don't make friends easily and I have no real secrets other than those that are mine to keep. It's for those three reasons that I show this…this dark demeanour, but, if you prove to me that I can trust you, then…I would like to make a deal."

"What…what sort of deal?" asked Blaise, shuddering slightly as he heard an almost pitying tone in the voice of his new dorm-mate; something about the music also seemed to help.

"We're stuck together for the next seven years," Harry explained, "So, here's the deal: don't ask questions about my past; don't make assumptions that you can't prove and respect my privacy in all matters and, in return, I will do my best to be…civil with the two of you, but only in this room. Anywhere else, I'm the cold pre-teen that you've seen today: I don't do this to frighten people…much, but if we're meant to share a dorm for the next seven years, then I suppose I can make an exception."

"And all we have to do is respect your privacy and your secrecy," Draco remarked, earning a nod of Harry's head, before he too nodded, "All right: you've got a deal, but as to what I said earlier, it still counts. If you need anything, Harry, then all you have to do is ask."

"In that case," Harry told them, "I'll also answer a question for you: the stone is called a Dreamweaver Crystal: they come in sets of musical tunes that can help with sleep and relaxations: I happen to have a full set of each crystal in my trunk that you are welcome to use as long as you ask: I wasn't joking when I said that you'd regret poking your nose in where it wasn't welcome. I have different types of music, including a unique stone with some of Beethoven's more relaxing music, such as the Moonlight Sonata: I just prefer the harp. Is that all?"

"Yes," both boys answered, Harry accepting their response before he turned and, settling into bed, was out like a light before they had a chance to say goodnight.

When both boys were sure that Harry was asleep, Blaise asked Draco, "Who…who is he, Draco?"

"Like it or not," Draco told Blaise, "He's the leader of our little triad: I've already witnessed a sample of his cold demeanour and I don't want to make it worse. I know you're neutral in this, Zabini, but, for now, you'll need to ignore that if you wish to survive for the next seven years: goodnight."

"Good…night Draco," Blaise replied, gulping hard as he too changed into his night clothes and, laying his head upon his pillow, let his eyes wander to the dark-souled individual at his side, the sound of the harp music muffled by Harry's curtains.

'First the choking incident and then a musical instrument that no-one else would use without good reason,' Blaise thought, 'And yet, despite his warning, he's willing to be civil with us as long as we respect his privacy. By the gods: who is Harry Potter?'

Silence was his answer…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

The next morning, as soon as the soothing harp music from Harry's Dreamweaver Crystal was finished, the young Slytherin opened his eyes and moved with an almost military-style edge to him as he went to get washed and dressed, emerging just fifteen minutes later, his posture and appearance the same as the cold Slytherin that Draco and Blaise, who were awake by the time Harry was done, remembered from the night before.

Seeing his two dorm-mates watching him with an air of wariness, Harry shrugged before he returned the crystal to his trunk before he told them, "Bathroom's free, though I don't need to tell you that with separate cubicles: see you in the Great Hall."

With that, he was gone and both boys went to get themselves ready; however, as Blaise emerged from the bathroom, he felt a mixture of curiosity and shock as he saw something off with the picture.

Harry's trunk, which, from the way he described it last night, may as well have dragons guarding it from thieves and intruders, was slightly ajar, giving anyone a clear opportunity to find out more about the dark Slytherin.

"Don't," Draco warned him, having already seen the mistake in Harry's routine himself, "Harry's clearly done this on purpose: it's a test of trust and faith, Blaise: fail it and you'll…well, I don't actually know what he'll do, but you remember Nott's…incident?"

"Draco," Blaise replied, his voice filled with awe, "Harry made a mistake: he's probably bluffing about his protections anyway: cold as ice he may be, but he's still only human."

"I'm telling you it's a trap," Draco warned him, but Blaise shook his head.

"No: this could be our only chance to find out about him while he's not here," Blaise argued, kneeling before the lid and, reaching out to it, he let his fingers slide through the opening, "Why's he so cold like that? What's his problem with the way we run things? Who is he, Draco?"

"He'll tell us when he knows he can trust us," Draco warned Blaise, "Please, Zabini: don't…you'll be lucky to walk if he catches you; just let it go."

Blaise wasn't listening: as he lifted the lid, he smirked with victory as he turned his head in Draco's direction, "See? I told you it was all a…"

He didn't get to finish: at that moment, the equivalent of 240 volts of electrical magic surged through him, making his short hair stand on end and his body feel hot.

However, as the feeling passed, the lid was suddenly slammed down on Blaise's fingers, trapping them within the trunk, a loud, almost sickening crunch echoing through the room as Blaise whimpered in pain: he was a Slytherin; he wouldn't scream.

"I warned you," Draco sighed, looking like he'd seen a ghost; however, the next voice to speak wasn't Blaise.

"Yes you did," Harry growled, his lithe form standing in the door, his eyes filled with unexpressed rage as he looked to Blaise, "You may be a Slytherin, Blaise, but you think like a Muggle: Draco could see it was a test and, unlike him, you failed it! I _wanted_ you to see that it was a test because then I knew that I'd be able to rely on you; but, sadly for you, you had to learn the hard way: through pain."

"H-Harry," Blaise gasped, "P-P-Please…l-l-let me g-g-g-go: it…it hurts; p-p-please…I-I-I'm s-s-sorry."

"And so you should be," Harry replied, snapping his fingers with a sharp action; as he did so, the trunk clicked open and Blaise was left looking at eight broken fingers; thankfully, his thumbs had been outside the trunk or it would have been worse. However, as Blaise whimpered in pain, Harry moved across the room and, kneeling down, drew his yew wand before he whispered, "_Episkey._"

Eight loud, painful-sounding clicks came from Blaise's fingers, a whimper coming from the Slytherin as Harry rose and, looking to Draco, nodded his head curtly before he told them both, "The pain will subside after a few hours; in the meantime, you suffer: Draco, get used to seeing things that normal wizards can't do around here where I'm concerned. If you thought I was just another half-blood, then you're sadly mistaken: now, Blaise, I think the punishment should fit the crime: you don't call me anything but Mr Potter or Sir and, unless it's important, you don't speak to me at all. Once I've felt you've regained my trust…_then_ you can be considered part of my trusted individuals. As for you, Draco, you've _earned_ your place: don't waste the chance."

"I won't," Draco replied, watching as Harry left with a sweep of his robe that reminded Draco of his godfather; as the young Malfoy went to follow, he looked to Blaise before he spoke with an almost pitying voice as he muttered, "I _did_ try to warn you."

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

For five days afterwards, Blaise and Draco remained close to their leader, though Blaise had to pass on any messages through Draco given Harry's rule that he wasn't to speak directly to the cold pre-teen unless it was important. In the meantime, life at Hogwarts had officially begun and Harry, though he remained stoic throughout all of his lessons, found himself actually enjoying the comparisons in power and skill: it also gave him a chance to scout for other potentials that he would _one day_ add to his circle.

One such potential was the mysterious Heiress Daphne Greengrass; like him, she seemed to hold a colder edge to her personality that was reserved for life outside Slytherin Dormitory; at other times, Harry saw her with the other Slytherin girls, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode, the three of them forming the feminine equivalent of Harry and his two companions.

In lesson, it was a close match between her, Harry and Draco for who could gain the most points with their tasks and soon, Harry found a leap of excitement in his heart as he sensed a challenge: it seemed like a lifetime since his last one, but, for now, he would observe her and then, when he was certain, he would extend the invitation.

Much to his surprise, the other potential that Harry found himself keeping an eye on was a member of Ravenclaw by the name of Hermione Granger: when he'd first seen her, he'd asked Draco about her and discovered that she was Muggleborn, though Draco had asked Harry's permission to tell him the name that Slytherins used for her kind.

When Harry revealed that he knew the name, he had it drilled into the first-years that the name was borderline taboo and if anyone said it within his earshot, then, in Harry's words, they'd better be fast runners.

The thing that drew him to the Muggleborn Eagle was the fact that she seemed to not only be able to stand on her own two feet within the school, but she also had an impressive-looking thirst for knowledge: on a whim, when Harry had gone to the library to find out more information for their first piece of Defence Homework – a four foot essay on a Dark Creature of your choice – he had found Granger alone and reading through the books with a scholar's edge to her.

He hadn't bothered to introduce himself, though as he'd walked past her, their eyes had met and he'd given her a curt nod and what could have been mistaken for a smile as the corners of his lips had twitched in amusement.

Since then, and in the run-up to the Friday that Harry was looking forwards to most of all, he'd seen her a few times: sometimes in the courtyards around Hogwarts and other times either in the library or in lessons.

Like Daphne, she didn't hesitate to try and earn points and marks for Ravenclaw, though she had one key folly that Harry latched onto: her passion for knowledge made her a loner and, at one point, Harry overheard Millicent Bulstrode refer to her as a _bossy, buck-toothed know it all_.

Surprisingly, the comment wasn't punished: instead, Harry saw potential that could be nurtured and fed; like a protégé or an acolyte of the cold nature that he himself had adopted over a short span of time. All he had to do was try and find a way to speak to Granger without drawing attention to the fact that he, Harry Potter, the soon-referred-to-as the Ice Prince of Slytherin, would willingly speak with someone that was raised by Muggles, which, given Harry's loathing of them in general, also made it hard for Harry to draw on the willpower to speak with her.

His years in the orphanage had given him not only an icy persona, but a loathing for the unworthy, better known by wizards as Muggles: so, in hindsight, a witch that was raised by a Muggle parentage and lived the Muggle way was like putting a red rag in front of a bull.

On the other hand, Harry also found a liking for the lessons…once he'd learned about their basics of course; thanks to the lessons that he'd received from Bellatrix, Harry found it easy to adapt to the magical requirements for each lesson and, in some cases, he actually came across as bored.

For example, when they had to turn a matchstick into a needle, Harry managed it first time and then, for emphasis, he also provided a snake monogram on the head of the needle before turning it back into a matchstick; when Professor McGonagall saw this, she awarded Slytherin points and gave Harry full marks for the lesson; he didn't even bat an eyelid.

Charms and Defence were two lessons that interested Harry, or Defence would have done if it wasn't for the fact that their classroom smelled strongly of garlic and their teacher was a stammering, jabbering mess that always made it impossible for the students to understand him.

Professor Quirrell, a lean, almost cowardly-attitude of a man with a purple turban that held the same smell as his classroom, seemed to stutter and stammer over each word and always seemed worse whenever he met the eyes of the Ice Prince.

Harry, thinking ahead, set a Dicta-Quill that he had purchased from Diagon Alley and spent the lesson reading and researching new spells and techniques that he could use in the future; either that or he closed his eyes and meditated for up to the full two hours of the lesson.

The only real reason that Harry enjoyed Charms was the rush of using magic in a lesson that could do some real damage: in fact, though again he didn't bat an eyelid when it was mentioned, but Professor Flitwick referred to him as a prodigy at one point and, after the lesson, told Harry that he must have inherited his Mother's gift for the lesson.

Doing his best to conceal an air of sadness at finally having something good talked about his parents, Harry nodded his thanks and left rather hurriedly.

However, as previously noted, it was the Friday lessons that Harry was looking forwards to most of all: Potions with Severus Snape, but the downside to that was that it was with the Gryffindors, which meant two problems for Harry and their names were Ronald and Weasley.

When he wasn't shooting icy glances in the corridors or across the hall, he was doing his best to refer to Harry as a traitor to his parents' memories and the one time that Harry had decided that enough was enough, it had been rather public, but Harry, who had been seen by McGonagall in the corridor, just asked coldly, "Is it my fault that Weasley can't tie his own shoelaces when he's walking down the Grand Staircase?"

So, to Harry, Potions with the red-headed idiot was a good-news, bad-news situation; good news because he actually did look forwards to Potions and learning about the different formulas and the different outcomes involved with healing, restoration, status and, of course, blood-curdling damages.

Bad news because the Gryffindors were all idiots and chose only to spend their time laughing and rambling on about Quidditch or their families rather than devoting themselves to the Craft.

Harry actually understood why the Slytherins despised them so much…

**Chapter 3 and the Slytherins have met Harry Potter, but it seems that he's not all bad: all he values is loyalty; will Draco and Blaise oblige him?**

**Also, can Draco find a way to involve Harry with the circle of chosen ones that he's selected from Slytherin?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Potions and Blaise redeems himself; also, there's an encounter with an Eagle and a Snake that leaves the pit realising that this is one half-blood they don't want to cross: also, when Harry loses his temper with his new cohorts, it has unseen repercussions for the snakes…and for Severus Snape…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**OC SPELL:**

_**Lumera Musica Terras: **_**Activation charm for the Dreamweaver Crystals: sets a soothing tune and dancing light into active state for as long as the effect is required;**


	4. Knowledge Is Power

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**T4: Enjoy what is to come and I hope you like the story;**

**StormyFireDragon: And this is just the beginning, Storm;**

**WhiteElfElder: It won't be yet, but the time is coming;**

**EndlessChains: Despite their length and detail, I always enjoy reading your reviews; I hope you like what's coming;**

**GatorLHA2: This story was the inspiration I needed to create and complete that one;**

**MrGagaSlashLover: Not 'join' fully if you get my drift; this chapter should explain more;**

_So, to Harry, Potions with the red-headed idiot was a good-news, bad-news situation; good news because he actually did look forwards to Potions and learning about the different formulas and the different outcomes involved with healing, restoration, status and, of course, blood-curdling damages. _

_Bad news because the Gryffindors were all idiots and chose only to spend their time laughing and rambling on about Quidditch or their families rather than devoting themselves to the Craft._

_Harry actually understood why the Slytherins despised them so much…_

Chapter 4: Knowledge is Power

As he sat at breakfast on the Friday of their first Potions lesson, lightly munching on a softly-toasted slice of brown bread, Harry kept his mind focused for the tasks ahead: he'd already been given a taste of what Professor Snape was like and, if he was honest, he didn't like it. Though Harry was part of his House, the man looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock that seemed to add to the strain that Harry had put on him with the oath he'd told the man to swear.

Indeed, Severus was the only one that knew that Harry's guardian, Mariah McKnight was really Bellatrix Lestrange and, after he'd told his story, the man had been scared before Harry had warned him that revealing his secrets would be painful, to which Severus had told him that he would understand Harry's secrecy, though Harry had chosen that moment to add, "For you."

Now, with his first lesson on the horizon, Harry had the chance to observe Severus first-hand and see what kind of a mentor he would be: indeed, Bella had warned him that Severus was someone that would be a challenge, but her permission for him to end Severus if he betrayed them was the only thing that Harry counted on.

It wouldn't be slow and painless: it would be like experiencing a burning sensation that tore you up from the inside before it ripped you apart…at the most, it would take ten seconds.

Across the table from Harry, Blaise Zabini seemed to still struggle with using his hands, but Harry didn't feel remorse for what he'd done: fools had to learn the hard way. However, the boy had remained true at his side and was always there to do whatever Harry wanted or needed; but he was yet to prove himself to Harry and, when he did, _then_ Harry would _maybe_ finish the healing spells that he'd cast on the muscles and bones.

Without another word, Harry rose from the table, the first-years actually rising with him as he turned and left the Great Hall, making his way down into the world that he considered his home: the dungeons. Harry didn't know what it was, but there was something about the cold and the dark that he just loved, though his face didn't show it: instead, he took to drawing on strength from the shadows and, in the coldest of places, Harry felt like he was only getting stronger where others would shiver and cower with weakness.

By the time they reached the Potions classroom, Professor Snape was already there waiting and, as he stepped aside to let the Slytherins in, the dark eyes of the Potions Master met the eyes of the Ice Prince, who simply raised an eyebrow as he walked into the classroom, taking a spot at the front with his two companions either side of him.

It took a few minutes more for the Gryffindors to join them, but, when they did so, they all piled into the class like a bunch of pre-schoolers at a playground, the noise and the arrogance that they would know what lies ahead clear from their lack of attention.

That didn't last long as Severus silenced them, before he moved from the back of the class, his voice echoing through the room as he spoke, "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such: I don't expect you to understand the fine art and noble science that is potion-making; however, for those…select…few that possess…the predisposition."

He glanced to the trio as he said this, Draco looking awed while, as was his normal behaviour, Harry looked bored: it was an inspiring speech, but it was clearly a waste of breath.

Severus, seeing Harry watching him with that bored expression, continued, "I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses: I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death."

'And there it is,' Harry thought, 'The reason that the speech is so pointless: if there was a way to stop death with a potion, then I wouldn't be the Boy-Who-Lived, would I?'

"Then again," Severus reasoned, Harry sensing that his words were directed at the group of monkeys behind him, "Maybe…some of you have come to Hogwarts with a knowledge so deep that you feel confident enough…_to not pay attention!_"

There was a clatter of quills from behind and Severus addressed the cause of the sound, "Judging by your red hair and confidence to ignore my teachings, I can harbour a guess that you are a Weasley: still, maybe ignorance isn't hereditary; we shall see: tell me, Mr Weasley, what would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"How the bloody hell should I know?" Ronald whispered under his breath, a few of the Gryffindors looking as lost as he did while the Slytherins laughed at the ignorance, "Isn't that why this git's supposed to teach us?"

"Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for that remark, Mr Weasley," Severus explained, before he turned his eyes on the Slytherins, "Let's try someone else: Mr Potter? Perhaps you can answer the question?"

"Certainly sir," Harry replied, his cold voice showing no real emotion as he explained, "The infusion of powdered asphodel to wormwood creates the Draught of Living Death, a dangerous and borderline-lethal sleeping draught that, if brewed incorrectly, can incapacitate the drinker or, worst case scenario, kill them. If I remember my records right, only one person has brewed such a potent mixture…and he's teaching us, Professor Snape."

"Five points for the answer," Severus told him, the Slytherins looking to Harry with awe as he added, "And a further two points for the knowledge of expert potions craft: it just so happens that Mr Potter is correct in that assumption. It is why, as Mr Weasley put it, this git is teaching you Potions in the first place; now, I can only hope you aren't all dunderheads…"

Following that remark, he continued with a test to both sides, a few of the Gryffindors getting the questions right while the Slytherins all answered theirs perfectly, before Severus paired them up, Harry being paired – to his surprise – with Blaise, who looked at him with nervous eyes.

Their task was to create a potion that was to cure boils and, all throughout the task, Harry was aware of Severus watching him.

He knew that the man was watching him to look for a single mistake, but he would be sorely disappointed: Harry had been taught the craft by a member of a noble, Slytherin-blooded family and that came with certain gifts, such as a foreknowledge of Potions and potion-making: his stirring was precise, the chopping and mixing of the ingredients was with a master's eye and Harry even remembered the specifics, like turning down the fire _before_ adding the quills.

However, towards the end of the lesson, Harry was just bottling their completed potion when a loud explosion rang through the classroom and, before Harry could turn, he heard a voice announce what sounded like the Glacius Charm, which froze the exploding fountain of potion, before it was left to drop to the floor where it was cleared with the Evanesco Charm.

Looking up from his bottling, Harry was surprised to see Blaise standing protectively in front of Harry, his left arm now cut by the overheated potion, which had caused painful sores and boils to spring up over his dark flesh.

For the first time all week, Harry allowed emotion to show on his face as realisation hit him: it was Blaise that had cast the charms and shielded Harry from damage: he'd known that Harry was trying to take care of the finishing touches and yet he had risked his neck. Now, with the wounds on his skin, Blaise gulped before he looked to Harry, who did his best to return his expression to its apathetic state: thankfully, Professor Snape then gave a cry to the offending party, "Longbottom: you stupid boy; did you not see that you had to take the cauldron off the fire before adding the quills? Were you trying to destroy an entire lesson's worth of work? Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention for both you and Mr Weasley."

"Why me?" asked Ron, looking with revulsion to Harry, who saw it in the eyes: Longbottom _had_ taken the cauldron off the fire, but Weasley had wanted to take care of Harry's so-called treachery: and for that, Blaise had been injured and Harry left dumbstruck…a feeling he was _not_ used to.

"You were his partner: why didn't you warn him?" asked Severus, before he indicated Blaise and Harry, "Potter, take Zabini to the Hospital Wing and Zabini, take twenty points to Slytherin for quick thinking and watching out for your fellow students."

Blaise practically fled for the door, but Harry, handing Professor Snape his completed potion, soon took off after him, leaving a rather loud reaction from the class…

And a very worried Draco Malfoy…

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

"Zabini?"

Blaise stopped as he heard Harry's cold voice calling after him; he hadn't spoken to the Ice Prince since he'd been taken to the Hospital Wing and, for the remainder of the day, he'd done all he could to avoid Harry, but now, outside the Common Room, there was no running away. Lowering his head, Blaise waited for it: the explosion or the punishment that would come for either being stupid or anti-Slytherin.

However, what he got was something that he didn't expect; a hand, strong-muscled and firm to the touch, pressed on his shoulder before a voice that _sounded_ like Harry's told him, "Thank you."

"I was just doing what we do," Blaise told him, shocked that he'd been thanked by the Ice Prince, "Slytherins watch each other's backs: I _saw_ Weasley sabotage the potion and just knew it was meant for you; I wasn't trying to prove anything…"

"Well you did," Harry explained, his voice calm again as he told Blaise, "You proved what I have wanted all week: that I can rely on you for your quick thinking and sharp reflexes; I don't normally thank people and I never have to rely on others before, but now, I see that…you _can_ be trusted: so consider Monday's little…incident forgotten. I can trust you with my life and my safety: welcome back to the circle."

"Harry," Blaise began, but the Ice Prince just stepped past him and entered the Common Room, the entrance closing behind him; however, seconds later, the blonde-haired visage of Draco Malfoy stepped around the corner, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Harry doesn't thank people and he doesn't act nice to them," Draco explained, his voice calm as he stood beside Blaise, "We're his advocates, Zabini and it's up to us to protect and follow his orders. Nobody else in Hogwarts will watch his back, so it falls to us: are you finally prepared to accept it, accept him?"

"I'd say so," Blaise replied, speaking the password for him and Draco to enter the Common Room, "It's definitely a lesson I won't soon forget, Drake: but who is he?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious by now," Draco replied, looking to the corridor that led down to their dorm, "He's Harry Potter: not the Boy-Who-Lived or a saviour or anything like that: he's Harry: a pre-teen boy with the maturity and emotional war inside him of a man."

"How do we help him with that war?"

Draco settled into a chair near the fireplace as he sighed and, looking up to Blaise, he answered, "When Harry's ready, we may not have to help him: because that will be the day that he sees us as more than advocates."

"What will he see us as?" asked Blaise, shuddering as he remembered Harry's words.

"Hopefully what McGonagall says our House is," Draco replied, pulling a copy of the Prophet from the table, "Family."

'Somehow,' thought Blaise, moving off towards the dorm where he found Harry already getting to work on their homework from Snape, 'I wouldn't hold my breath.'

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

After the reunion of the infamous male trio, Harry began to settle into the routine that he knew best: from morning until night, he was either studying, revising his lessons, practicing magic or, in the rarest of cases, just relaxing; every now and again, Draco and Blaise would catch him making the odd notes about random events in a diary that he sealed in his trunk.

After learning his last lesson, Blaise knew that it was better just to let Harry decide when to share these secrets; however, as September began to disappear, there was a real change in the air for the Slytherins that didn't rear its head until the last day in September.

Unlike his first-year peers and allies, Harry had a distinct feeling that there were some members in the Snake Pit that chose to either ignore the warning signs or come right out and show Harry that they weren't intimidated by his cold demeanour.

Neither point really concerned the young wizard as he'd always said that he had no place for friends and wasn't really out to impress anyone; however, as he left the library on the night of the thirtieth of September, he wasn't all that surprised to find his way blocked by three human behemoths.

All three were members of Slytherin and, as far as Harry could see, two of the three were fourth-years while the fifth was a seventh-year, all of whom looked like they'd earned some sort of victory here. With a sigh, Harry did his best to recognise the three: the seventh year was someone he recognised because of the badge on his chest: seriously, how did they decide Prefects around here?

Based on whoever looked the most brainless?

Despite his tall stature, the seventh-year had a brutish look about him with his broad shoulders and well-defined torso and leg muscular structure; he had box-cut brown hair and narrowed dark blue eyes that seemed to fill with excitement as he saw Harry standing there. Harry, recognising him from the badge, knew him as Adrian Rosier: a real definition to the phrase _thinking with his balls and not his brains_.

His two companions, on the other hand, he didn't recognise: or at least he didn't until he saw their faces; they were Derrick and Montague; two Slytherins that were also on the Quidditch Team and thought themselves to be as hard as solid steel.

Montague certainly wasn't as he was built more like a wire brush than a brick wall: lean and wiry, but holding some sort of unknown strength if and when he got his hands on you, this blonde-haired, hazel-eyed Slytherin actually made Harry feel like he was looking at someone that thought himself to be the big I am around the House.

Derrick, on the other hand, was a real brute: he reminded Harry of an older version of the two first years, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle: he looked like a real gargoyle and had thick, almost tree-trunk like arms and legs, a sneering expression on his face from dark grey eyes and under a head of black hair.

Shaking his head, as he could hazard a guess as to the reason these three were here, Harry asked, "So, which of you three Neanderthals came up with this little idea, then?"

"We all did," Rosier explained, his almost nasally voice making Harry laugh, if such a thing were possible, as he found he couldn't be intimidated if he tried. Instead, he just gave a hollow laugh that seemed to aggravate the trio as Rosier added, "Don't laugh, Potter: not like you can anyway; walking around here thinking yourself high and mighty when in reality you're just a freak of a half-blood that isn't worthy to lick my boots…like our little sample here."

It was then Harry noticed a fourth member of the triage: but, unlike these three brutes, the fourth was someone that was on the floor, crying and, for a second point, it was also a girl whose robes were torn and actually looked like she had a black eye.

Glancing back, Montague laughed before he exclaimed, "Stupid Mudblood didn't even put up a fight: pathetic, for all her brains, she doesn't know a thing about _real_ magic. Still, what more can you expect of that lot, eh Derrick? D? What's the matter?"

What the matter was that as soon as the infamous M-word had left Montague's lips, an icy coldness had spread through the corridor and moved towards the trio, freezing the blood in Derrick's veins as he looked back to the so-called _freak of a half-blood_ and instead of fear, he'd found an expression similar to that of a King Cobra before it struck.

"Derrick," laughed Rosier, "You lost the will to speak or something? What? Don't tell me that you're intimidated by this freak after you personally gave the trash her black eye…ah!"

He didn't get to finish as a strange force had suddenly pushed through the boy's chest, before it spun him upside down and left him dangling, the impact coming so quick that it snapped through Rosier's ankle, a scream of pain coming from the boy as he looked ahead, finally noticing Harry's coldness.

"Thank you," Harry hissed, lifting his hand and, pointing at Montague, he added, "You really should know by now not to mention that word in my presence: ah well, fools learn the hard way."

Magic crackled off Harry's body as he aimed his focus at the wiry fourth year, the magic that Harry had summoned apparently tightening the hold around Montague's collar and waistline until a foul stench filled the air, accompanied by wheezing breaths that forced the boy to his knees, blood dripping from his lips instead of foul words.

Derrick, not really able to move through the cold snap that had gripped the corridor, looked back and, before Harry could turn his magic on him, he dropped to his knees, cowering before this snake-like demon that had risen from within the so-called freak, "I'm sorry: I didn't mean it; we…we just wanted to teach…to teach you a lesson; please, I'll do anything: just don't…please sir, lord…Master!"

The magic actually seemed to die down with the last word; unknown to Montague, Harry was recalling a conversation with that very word being used:

_Flashback Start_

"…_They don't even deserve to call you friend. In fact, Muggle filth like them and your idiot relatives deserve to call you one thing."_

_"What?"_

_"Master."_

_Flashback End_

With the magic dying down, Derrick looked up and actually felt raw fear creep through his body as he saw a dark silhouette obscuring the light of the corridor, the cold magic sweeping around him like a protective veil.

A hand reached out to the boy and, for a second, Derrick thought he was going to be killed before he heard a dark, truly deathly voice ask him, "Who am I?"

"M-M-Master?" asked Derrick, recalling the word that had forced the rage away from him; glancing up to the eyes of the demon in front of him, he saw a cold glare before he turned his question into a statement, "You…are…my Master."

"That's right," Harry growled, his voice like a death knell as he spoke, "And who are you, Derrick?"

"Nobody," Derrick replied, "A mere pawn; an unworthy insect: your servant and slave should you wish it."

"And what does your life mean to me?"

"Nothing."

The cold that surrounded Harry seemed to gather around Derrick, freezing him in place before Harry told him, "Never forget that…and don't you ever let me hear or see you harm another student without my say-so: now, take these two to the Hospital Wing."

"Yes Master," Derrick replied, leaving Harry's side and, rather than risk a backlash, he moved to obey his new lord's wishes, dragging Montague and Rosier away from the scene, leaving Harry with the first victim, one Hermione Granger.

Approaching the girl, Harry shook his head before he told her, "If you wish to survive here, Granger, then stop acting like a weakling and letting them walk all over you: next time, I'll encourage them to continue."

Then, turning on his heel, Harry walked away and, as he reached the end of the corridor, he heard a voice call, "Wait: Potter?"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

At the same time that Hermione called out for Harry to wait, the young witch felt like she actually had a chance to do some right here: ever since joining Hogwarts and indeed before then when she had discovered that she was a witch, Hermione had followed an old edict she'd read in a book.

Knowledge is Power.

While her parents had praised her and called her their _special little girl,_ Hermione had actually felt sickened to be related to them: they had no idea of the wonder or power of real magic. They left her to study and read, thereby helping her grow stronger mentally and counting down the days where she would show others this power.

However, Hermione knew that Muggles like them would never understand, so what she needed was to find someone at Hogwarts who could understand. Being sorted into Ravenclaw had put that thought on hold as she'd heard how Ravenclaw students were studious and proud, but, when she'd tried joining in with debates and studies, it had been her Muggle primary school all over again.

They'd shut her out, ignored her power and potential and left her to the mercy of those three behemoths;

That is, until _he_ came along…and Hermione saw a different kind of chance.

"Wait: Potter?"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Stopping dead in his tracks, Harry lifted his head, hiding a smile of success as he asked, "Yes?"

"You know how to," she told him, Harry still trying not to smile at his victory as Hermione continued, "How to hide yourself like you do; please, teach me: make me your disciple and I'll do anything you say. I'm sick of them putting me down because of my knowledge; please, I want to…I want…"

"What?" asked Harry, turning on his heel and moving back to her; when they were inches apart, he locked his cold green-eyed gaze on Hermione as he asked her in a cryptic voice, "What do you want, Granger? Power? Respect? A chance to stand out; to be different or be counted as one of those who they cross at their own risk?"

"All of the above," Hermione answered, now meeting Harry's gaze with her own; as she did so, Harry saw a coldness behind her brown eyes that he had to admire: it was like it was trapped and she had yet to release it: well he could change that. "I want to show them that even a Mud…sorry, Muggleborn has real power and real potential: I want them to fear mentioning that insult and I'm willing to do anything to achieve it. But…I can't do it alone: please, help me and I'll do anything you say: like…that boy, I'll call you my Master, I'll obey your commands; I…I can spy on others for you, just please…please help me."

"There are two things I can't stand," Harry told her, lifting his hand to her eye before, with a push of his wandless magic, he told her, "One is desperation and the other is begging: however, you have interested me for the past month, Granger, so I'll make a deal with you."

"I'm listening," Hermione answered him, Harry smirking with the air of a shark smelling blood in the water.

"Come with me to the Slytherin House," he told her, his words as commanding as ever, "Stay with our first years and embrace the coldness that I see in front of me and then, yes, Granger, in return, I _will_ make you my disciple and teach you my ways of magic. However, if I do this, then there are some rules that you must obey: betray me and I'll see you back with the Eagles."

"What are your rules?" asked Hermione, keeping close to Harry as she seemed to sense the coldness in him; it was the same coldness that Harry let out for others to see.

"First," he told her, lifting a finger to emphasise the point, "We're not friends: you are nothing more than my tool to be used and disposed of as and when I desire it; I am going to teach you my ways, but that is it. I don't need friends: I never have and I never will."

"I understand," Hermione nodding, her mindset that she had found a friend being brought down again as she heard his rule.

"Second," Harry continued, lifting a second finger, "Questions: you don't ask them and you don't intrude where you're not welcome: my life, my secrets and my past are my own: as I have told my…advocates of Slytherin, I will allow them to be let into my circle when I know I can trust them."

"As you should," Hermione agreed, her voice becoming steadily colder as she asked, "Anything else?"

"Yes," Harry answered, lifting a third finger, "I am going to allow you to stay as close to me as I have allowed two others to be: they are Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini; however, this closeness is so I can emphasise the point that you belong to me and if anyone harms you, then what happened tonight will look like nothing more than a mere accident. When we're alone in the dorm, you will address me as Master or Lord and, as my disciple, I expect you to be ready to, as you said, do what it takes to defend me and my honour. Now, with the rules set down, do you still desire to become my disciple, Hermione Granger?"

"I do," Hermione answered him, Harry turning away from her and, as he let a cold smile of victory cross his face, he began walking.

"Then come, my child of darkness: your destiny awaits," he walked away from her, but Hermione easily kept pace with him, her voice low as she answered him.

"Yes, my Master."

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

"You _must_ be joking?"

Harry, a deep sigh escaping him as he stood before Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass, looked up to the third member of the feminine trio, Millicent Bulstrode, before he asked, "And why would I of all people be joking, Miss Bulstrode?"

"You want us to look out for…for someone like _her?_" asked Millicent, pointing to Hermione, who was standing at her Master's side, Harry giving her a nod of agreement, "And why should we do that? She's not even a Slytherin: we have no business with anyone outside this House."

"You do when they are here at my offering," Harry told her and, once again, the cold magic reacted to his emotions, providing the others with a feeling like they were standing in the middle of a frozen forest; there were even clouds of breath moving into the air. As he noticed this, Harry made a note to look into his magical potential: perhaps Bellatrix knew why his emotions seemed to have this effect on the elements.

In the meantime, "There may be times when I allow others to be here: challenge me and, quite frankly, I don't care whether you're a boy or a girl, you'll suffer the same fate. You want proof of that: well, ask Derrick about what happened on the second floor when he gets back…from the Hospital Wing."

Turning to look at Hermione, Harry beckoned with one hand and she complied, standing beside him as he turned back before looking to Daphne, "I've had my eye on you, Greengrass, for some time now and no, it's not for the reason you're thinking. Quite the contrary, I've seen you to respect those around you, so, will I be able to rely on you to keep watch over our new serpent?"

Daphne, who had always been taught to respect those in power to a certain degree, knew from the way that Potter asked the question that it wasn't really a yes-no answer: it was a test. He really _had_ been watching her and observing her methods and her patterns; indeed, like Granger in front of them, Daphne's friend Tracey was someone who enjoyed researching and experimenting with new ways of magic.

All the Muggleborn really needed was that guiding hand when she wasn't being watched by the new alpha male in the snake pit: well, not only would Daphne not fall for the trap, but she would honour the first creed of Slytherin: they look out for each other.

"Yes, Mr Potter," she answered, taking Hermione's hand and standing her next to Tracey, the eyes of the Muggleborn looking to her mentor as she explained, "We'll turn Granger into one of us before Halloween: I promise you that."

"Then I'll bid you goodnight," Harry nodded, giving Hermione a last long look before he turned on his heel and made his way up to the boys' dormitory, where he found Draco and Blaise in equal shock to those in the Common Room.

As soon as the door was closed, Harry let his cold visage drop slightly as he asked, "All right you two: what's with the faces?"

"Harry," Draco reasoned, moving to Harry's side as he spoke, "Are you aware that you've officially broken the full history of this House with what you've done tonight?"

"No Draco," Harry replied, his voice laced with sarcasm that only seemed to frighten the third member of their trio: the last time he'd heard such coldness was when he'd failed Harry's little test. "I never truly believed that I would dishonour someone I've never met and break four hundred years of tradition by bringing a Muggleborn into our ranks: oh wait; didn't _I_ do that when I was sorted into Slytherin?"

"I get what you're saying," Draco remarked, keeping his own voice calm as he could already feel the warning signs approaching, "But Harry: she's not going to settle here; if you thought you had it bad then…"

"Then I'll break more than tradition," snapped Harry, his voice filled with venom as he hissed, "If anyone dares to question my choices, then I'll make them scream and I'll break their bones, hearts and spirits. I don't allow anyone to question me and you're lucky that you're one of my trusted because I've left people hospitalised for less."

"Draco doesn't mean anything bad by that, boss," Blaise told Harry, keeping his distance as he didn't wish to aggravate his leader any further, "And I'm not arguing with you either: I learned my lesson; we're just trying to watch out for…"

"I don't need _anyone_ to watch out for me," Harry snarled, his voice filled with fire and vengeance, "I stand alone on my own two feet perfectly well: if Slytherin doesn't like my way, then they should either get a resort or go running home to Mummy and Daddy, because I'm not changing; not for you, not for Snape, not for this school: not _anyone_. In this life, you're either with me or against me and, believe me; you don't want to be against me."

"I know," Blaise whispered, watching as Harry moved to his bed and, changing into his nightclothes, he gave them both a cold glare before he gave them a last warning.

"I suggest you think long and hard about why you choose to be around me, because let me tell you now: I don't stand for anyone using me and, after today, I won't forgive anyone who betrays me: good night."

With that, his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light; however, as Blaise and Draco went to get changed themselves, both of them noticed something that was out of Harry's normal routine.

His Dreamweaver Crystal hadn't been activated before Harry went to sleep and, from the way he told it, he never went to sleep without one;

"Do you think we should wake him?" asked Blaise, standing at the end of Harry's bed as he looked over to Draco.

Draco, however, shook his head before he answered, "The mood he's in: you'd be a braver man than I am for doing that, Blaise; listen, I'm going to write a letter to Father about Harry. I think it's time for him to take some time away from here before he does something he'll regret."

"Do you think he'll accept?"

"With the date that I have in mind," Draco replied, moving to his own trunk where he began to draft out his letter, "I daresay Harry may find he doesn't have much of a choice."

_**Cold Heart Dark Soul**_

Severus Snape had been on the receiving end of a really challenging dilemma for the past month:

Mainly because the spawn of his hated enemy was now a Slytherin, but also because, for thirty days, he'd wanted to try and find out more about Harry's past, but every time he'd considered asking, he'd been pushed away by a warning courtesy of the oath he'd sworn.

Why was Bellatrix raising the Boy-Who-Lived when she'd been nowhere near the Longbottoms when they'd been attacked?

What was Harry's secret to the strange and ethereal magic that he seemed to have a Master's grasp on?

And why, for all that was holy, why was it that he could command the Slytherins with a likeness and leadership that resembled the leadership of another Slytherin that Severus had known?

As he tried to find a way to answer these questions, a loud alarm rang in Severus' office: it was a warning alarm tied to the dorms that indicated a student was in trouble. Keeping his dilemma to himself for now, the Potions Master fled from his office and down into the Common Room: as soon as he did so, however, Severus literally held his ears as a loud demonic scream echoed from up in the boys' dormitory.

"Severus!" a familiar voice cried, the Head of Slytherin moving towards the dorm where he found his godson actually looking frightened as he remained huddled on his bed. The screams, Severus noticed, were coming not from Draco or the Zabini boy, but from the bed that housed the Boy-Who-Lived: his eyes were wide open and glassy in their stare, but his body was ridged and all he did was scream.

"What happened?" asked Severus, lifting his wand and trying a Silencing Charm on the bed; all that did was muffle the sound: it didn't silence him.

"I…I don't know," Draco replied, actually terrified as he looked to Harry; as Severus did so, he then saw a glow around the boy's body and, without warning the Charm that he had cast shattered and the boy's body began thrashing, his voice crying out.

"No: I won't do it: I won't let you take me; I'm not a freak…I won't do it again…no: don't please…"

"How can we silence him?" asked Draco, Severus shaking his head before he remembered something that Harry had purchased from the Alleys: he hadn't thought of it then, but most boys suffered from nightmares and homesickness. However, this was more than nightmares: these were night terrors and they were far worse than anything Severus had faced before.

"Where are his crystals?" he asked, Draco and Zabini both pointing to the trunk at the foot of Harry's bed; when Severus tried to open it, he found a shock passing through his body that sent him sprawling back.

"You can't open it," Draco told him, "It reacts to Harry's magic alone: anyone else…well they get hurt."

"His wand," Severus demanded, "Get it."

Moving to Harry's side, Draco found his cane and, passing it to Severus, watched as his godfather withdrew the wand from the tip of the cane like Lucius would do; however, as Severus took the wand, a smirk crossed his face and Draco heard him mutter, "Little Slytherin."

Then, with a rap on the lid of Harry's trunk, the magic of the wand passed through the trunk and its security was removed, the lid opening and, reaching in, Severus withdrew the first crystal he could get. Tapping it with his wand, he muttered the activation charm and set it next to Harry, the soothing piano notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echoing through the room, the light within the crystal dancing over the walls and over Harry.

Thankfully, the light also helped soothe Harry and, as though his subconscious could hear the notes, the screams soon passed, leaving a normal sleeping child, though Severus did notice that his hands were trembling and his lips were quivering.

Returning Harry's wand to the cane, he set it next to the boy before he turned and, looking to Draco, told him, "Say nothing of what you've seen: I daresay that I finally have him figured out: why would he break from his routine?"

"He was angry," Blaise answered, looking to Severus with eyes of relief that were still edged by fear, "He lost his temper because he thought we were trying to change him: Professor…is…is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know Zabini," Severus told him, rising and, nodding his head to Draco, added, "Watch over him, Draco: he may not admit it, but a friend or someone he can confide in is something he needs more than ever."

"I will, Uncle Severus," Draco replied, watching as his Potions Master left the room; however, just as Severus left, he returned again and, looking to Draco, gave a nod to the letter by his bedside.

"Send it: I'll find a way to convince Harry to go with you."

Draco gave a nod of agreement before the door closed and, gathering his sheets from the bed, Draco moved to Harry's side where, as though by some last act of magic, a second bed appeared next to Harry's, Blaise moving closer to his leader as both boys remained alert and vigilant at his bedside.

"We're here for you, Harry," Draco told him, "And we're sorry: if we hadn't questioned you, then…by the Gods; why do you scream like that?"

"We may never know, Draco," Blaise yawned, "But that's something we have to accept; by the way, what date do you mean about Harry meeting your Father?"

"The one day that I won't blame him for acting like a kid again," Draco answered, his eyes glancing to the letter that he was to send in the morning;

"Halloween."

**Chapter 4 and Harry seems to have exposed a dark side to him that's worse than what comes before; what will this do to the sanctity and friendships he's made in Slytherin?**

**Also, can Hermione find a way to prove, with Harry's help, just what Knowledge is Power really means?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry and Draco clash about the recruitment of Hermione and the Malfoy Heir gives Harry a sign of the future he deserves to have; plus, Harry has his first encounter with Dumbledore and receives an invitation from Lucius Malfoy, inviting him and his **_**companion**_**: does he know about Bella?**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: I apologise for the short backstory with Hermione: when Harry brings her completely into the group, she'll tell him more;**


	5. The Darkness In Me

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**EndlessChains: When you say about Hermione's mindset being like Harry's, what do you mean? Other than that, thanks for another amazing review;**

**Stallion6 of Deviantart: Not only a Raven: soon the entire Ark shall bow to the Apex Predator in their midst;**

**StormyFireDragon: Ask and ye shall receive, Storm;**

"_I do," Hermione answered him, Harry turning away from her and, as he let a cold smile of victory cross his face, he began walking._

_"Then come, my child of darkness: your destiny awaits," he walked away from her, but Hermione easily kept pace with him, her voice low as she answered him._

_"Yes, my Master."_

Chapter 5: The Darkness In Me

When Blaise and Draco both woke the next morning, the first thing that they noticed was that Harry's bed was abandoned, his trunk sealed and the crystal that Severus had activated now gone from the bedside table. Straining their ears, the two Slytherins found they couldn't hear running water from the bathroom or any real sign that their cold-hearted dorm-mate was around.

Remembering to grab the letter that he'd written to his Father, Draco went to get ready before he stopped and, looking to Blaise, told him, "Say nothing of last night, Blaise."

"Don't worry, Draco," Blaise replied, watching the blonde move away from his bed, "I learned my lesson."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Harry wasn't in the Common Room when the boys were ready for the day ahead and, when Draco asked if anyone had seen him, it was Marcus Flint that told him, "Potter was up rather early this morning; said he needed some air: Malfoy, what happened…"

"Trust me," Draco answered, moving through the Common Room and out towards the Great Hall, "You don't want to know."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

After breakfast, in which Harry still hadn't turned up, Draco and Blaise knew that something was off; the Muggleborn Granger that Harry had apparently brought into the fold now sat with the Slytherins, but there was no sign of her quote-unquote saviour. When she sat with them, Draco went to ask her about her new master's location only to get a cold glare in warning back from her.

"After what you did to him," Hermione whispered icily, "You don't deserve to call yourself loyal to him: I don't know what bothers him, but while I _may_ hold a front of the know-it-all, I am more than you could ever consider me to be."

"Meaning?" asked Blaise.

"We'd be better off not asking," Draco muttered, earning a nod from Hermione as they proceeded with breakfast…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Their first period was a free one, thankfully, so Draco and Blaise knew where they had to go: outside and search for their leader on the grounds. Despite Hermione's warning about them being better off not asking, Draco couldn't help but feel a sense of worry and guilt after what they'd seen and heard last night.

The countering of Severus' magic by sheer willpower alone;

The screams that had torn from Harry's mouth;

The nightmare about someone either torturing him or mentally breaking him;

No-one, not even Harry Potter, deserved to go through that alone; making a quick detour to the Owlery to send off his letter, Draco stood out on the stairwell that led up into the stone building before he looked out over the school's perimeter, hoping for something, anything that would allow him a glimpse of the Silver Prince of Slytherin.

When no signs greeted them, Draco moved down from the Owlery and, meeting Blaise at the foot of the tower, told him, "Split up: if we find him, send up red sparks: I get he wants to be alone, but after last night…I don't know; I'm just worried."

"So am I," Blaise agreed, moving off towards the Greenhouses while Draco took the path that led down past the Groundskeeper's hut and towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

He didn't go near the Forest, as years of tales and stories from his Father had warned him away from the place, but he did make a side-track towards the edge of the Black Lake; he didn't know why, but something in him just seemed to remember that sometimes, when you needed to be alone, a place of silence, solitude and relaxation was necessary.

Moving towards the lake, Draco found that his mental theory was correct as he saw a lone figure sat at the edge of the platform that led into the old boathouse, the figure kicking his legs in the water, his trousers rolled up and his socks and shoes at his side.

Taking a deep breath, Draco approached cautiously before he asked, "Harry, are…are you all right?"

The figure looked in his direction, but Draco swore as he realised that it wasn't Harry; it was the Longbottom boy from Gryffindor, his eyes filled with a sense of confusion and suspicion as he asked, "Why did you think I was him, Malfoy?"

"None of your business, Longbottom," Draco snapped, turning on his heel and, shaking his head, he scoffed: how could he have thought that nobody resembled the proud alpha male of Slytherin?

Harry was taller, leaner and had more sense not to be so obvious with his location…which probably meant that he wasn't outside at all.

"If you're looking for Harry," Longbottom told him, his voice edged by a sense of fear as if he'd actually seen and met the dark leader, "He's gone up to the tallest point in Hogwarts and he wishes to be alone."

"And how would you know that?" asked Draco, looking back to the round face of the Gryffindor idiot that had nearly injured Harry beforehand in Potions.

"I go there to relax sometimes," Longbottom answered, his voice filled with pride, "But this time, I found him there and, when I asked if he was all right, he…he did this," he then lifted his foot out of the water and Draco gasped as he noticed a scar crossing Longbottom's ankle, the wound deep, but not serious. "He said I was to leave him alone and never come back there again; I've heard rumours around the school of what he can really do and I don't want to add to his list of victims."

"You sound like you actually give a damn about Slytherins and our kind," Draco laughed, not knowing why he was still talking to this Gryffindor Squib-wannabe.

"Not all of you," Longbottom answered, "Just him: I know he's closed himself to everyone, but his parents were close to mine and, while I have no desire to get a worse injury than this one, I won't abandon the friendship: today just proved to me that I need to let him be the one to offer the hand."

Draco scoffed, before he smirked as he added, "You know something? You're pretty bright sometimes, Longbottom, but if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it outright."

"Don't worry Malfoy," Longbottom replied, Draco then noticing a look of slyness in him that would have been perfect as a Slytherin, "I'm a lot better than you think at keeping secrets hidden."

Shaking off his curiosity at the comment, Draco turned on his heel and made for the inside of Hogwarts…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

When Malfoy left, Neville lifted his foot out of the water once again, the feel of the cold autumn air against the exposed wound making him hiss with discomfort, but not pain.

What he'd said to Malfoy wasn't a lie: the Longbottoms and the Potters did indeed have a strong sense of brotherhood, but, from what he'd seen ever since first laying eyes on those cold emerald orbs of the Slytherin's rising star, Neville had suspected that not only did Harry _not_ know about their past, but he also wouldn't care.

From the way that people like Weasley kept mumbling and cursing Harry's existence and claiming that he was betraying Gryffindor and betraying his parents, Neville seemed to understand that Harry had a desire to be alone and to be just himself. He didn't give a damn about his legacy and he didn't have anyone to prove himself to.

Because of this, the boy had become rather powerful and learned to harness the hardest of skills for any wizard, let alone a Slytherin: the art of the mask.

In Harry's case, when they'd met up in the Tower, Neville had seen pain, yes, but he'd also seen rage, shame and a hint of displeasure, almost like he was actually hateful of himself for what he'd done. Then that pain and rage had coalesced together when Harry had seen Neville, though the dark-haired Lion suspected that he'd seen the badge before seeing the boy.

It wasn't a Cutting Curse, what had been done to him, but Neville knew the Dark Arts when he saw them;

More to the point, he knew _power_ when he saw it.

And, though he was only going to confess it to one whom could set him free from his own parental-legacy-honouring prison, Neville had seen the way of Harry James Potter and how he carried himself.

He'd seen it…and he wanted more!

But that would fall to Harry to decide when Neville would be allowed into the circle; for now, the Gryffindor _Squib_ as people called him, would watch and observe and wait for the day where Harry would be ready to let him in.

And on that day, Neville wouldn't just become a brotherly figure that Harry could confide in:

He would become his most-devoted warrior and weapon, only to be commanded by his Lord, his Master, his King;

Harry James Potter…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Harry's heart felt as cold as ice…

Now, on a normal day, such a feeling was normal for him, but on this occasion, the coldness was genuine and it made him feel both sick and sad, both being feelings that he despised, especially since he knew that the source of the feelings were his fault anyway.

How could he have let his anger blind him from such a regular routine that he was troubled by those old memories and feelings?

Even worse, he knew that Draco, Blaise and Severus had seen his moment of weakness and heard his almost demonic screams, the same screams that had plagued him in the first year that Bellatrix had taught him to control his magic and release his fullest potential.

Every night, Bellatrix had needed to give him Calming Draughts and Dreamless Sleep potions to stop his nightmares rearing their heads until she'd taught him to close his mind to his fears and block out the emotions surrounding his past.

This was why he'd remained so cold and callous throughout the remaining three and a half years since his tuition had begun: if people couldn't read him and chose to separate themselves from him, then he couldn't allow them to damage his iron-will armour and bring those nightmares back.

And now, thanks to the arguments and disagreements of the Slytherins and his actions to bring the Muggleborn Granger girl under his wing as his acolyte and apprentice, his armour had been breached and the nightmares had reared their heads. Subconsciously, Harry had felt and heard everything that was said and done to him by his Head of House, but the remainder of that, including the magic that had shattered Severus' silencing ward, had been done by his willpower.

He wouldn't let _anyone_ cage him, no matter what, and he wouldn't allow himself to be caught in the aftermath of his moment of weakness: weakness of his emotions meant a weakness in his power and he wouldn't let that happen.

So, when he'd awoken at the crack of dawn that morning, he'd washed, dressed, replaced his crystal – mentally and actually _thanking_ Severus for his choice in musical calmness – and made for the highest point in Hogwarts, the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower.

It was both a choice in location and a symbol that he would never let himself be drawn below anyone or anything: no, he was on top of them all and would one day stand tall over them like the dark master that he was.

When that Squib-wannabe had turned up, Harry had only needed to release a small amount of his fury on the boy and, as was his forte, Harry didn't feel a thing when he heard the cry of pain or the feeling of euphoria at finally being able to harm someone, especially if it was one of those biased-brained Gryffindors.

In all honesty, more than the Squib, Harry wanted to punish the little shit that thought he was a genuine Gryffindor and make it so painful that it would last as a permanent nightmare for the red-haired little git for the rest of his life.

That thought, rather miraculously, brought a smile to Harry's face before he let out a cold, dark laugh at the thought of his little lamb to the slaughter being brought before him, Harry releasing all of his fury into the body of his little annoyance and listening to him scream.

With that image, the cold, dark Harry returned once more and, as he leaned against the wall of the deck, his eyes looking out over the skyline and view of Hogwarts and the land beyond, Harry then realised something else: he was sad for another reason.

Bellatrix;

He was missing her: unlike the sheep of the staff here at Hogwarts, she wasn't so closed-minded that she ignored his power and just taught him to turn a mouse into a pincushion or levitate a feather.

No, her teachings made him feel strong, powerful and as dominant as he had been since September First with the Slytherins and the idiots that thought his power nothing more than a fluke.

More than that, however, he missed her comfort: as she'd told him, she was the only one that he would let in and the only person that he could open his heart and bare his soul before.

She was like a Mother to him and, in the moments where she hadn't been teaching him, he'd let her treat him as such, which is why he was as tall and lean as he was and why he wasn't some weak, naïve little martyr that the world thought they could screw over.

While everyone else at the orphanage had seen him as a monster and something that they thought they could push around, she'd seen him as a warrior, a leader and a god amongst insects: she'd taught him to embrace the power within and release it as he wished.

As long as the intended effect wasn't too strenuous on his body or his magic, then he could bend his powers to do as he wished, which was how he'd injured those elder Slytherins and frightened the shit out of that clown, Derrick.

Yes, Harry would only admit it in the utmost secrecy, but he missed Bellatrix and, more than anything, he wanted to see her again…

But, of course, he had to wait until the Yule Break to do anything about it; not even his least favourite day of the year, Samhain or Halloween as they called it, could give him a reason to be close to her and release his dark potential once again.

"Harry?"

The sound of Draco Malfoy's voice made Harry look away from the view outside, his hand moving to his cane that he'd brought with him: he wouldn't let this blonde ponce force him to admit his weakness either. Thanks to his dual wands – his hawthorn wand was located in the cane while his yew wand was his day-to-day wand – he could use the Dark Arts as he wished and not even the senile old goat who thought him malleable and naïve could recognise his handiwork.

As Draco's head appeared over the steps, Harry let out a snarl before he warned Malfoy, "If you value your sanity, Malfoy, you'll do us both a favour and go away."

"No I won't," Draco told him, now rising onto the platform, his own hand bearing his wand as he added, "And you can curse me all you want, Harry, but I'm your…your friend whether you want it or not and it's my duty to keep an eye on you, watch your back and keep you strong. Isn't that what you wanted Blaise and me to do when you threatened us like you did on our first day here? To stand true to you and your wishes no matter what the request or the risk to our health? Well, I'm doing that now."

Drawing his wand from its silver-tipped holster, Harry lifted his wand before he told him, "If you were anyone else, Draco, I would have silenced you before you managed to get halfway through your pretty little speech; now I'm going to give you one last chance: get out of my sight and go back to the fodder downstairs. I don't need you here and I don't _want_ your friendship."

"I won't go," Draco told him, keeping his hand wrapped around his wand; Harry wasn't the only one that had been trained to use the Dark Arts: he _was_ a Malfoy after all. "You told us last night to think long and hard where we stand; well, I stand with you: I won't betray you, Harry and I'm not here to use you. I'll be by your side as long as you want me, even if it's to use whatever resources I can get for you, I don't care: you've proven that you're many things, but a Golden Boy, you're not. I'm not here to change you, Harry and I'm sorry I questioned your decisions: you're the Prince of Slytherin and I shouldn't be arguing against you, I see that now. I should be grovelling for mercy at your feet and, if it's what it takes for me to get through that iron-hard casing of your armour, then I'll do it."

"You can try," Harry scowled, lifting his wand before he added, "And then you'll fail: _Lancus Septima!_"

Draco gasped as he heard the curse: how did Harry know _that_ one?

With seconds to think, Draco rolled out of the way of the spell that flew towards him, his left arm suffering the damage as seven red rivulets started to flow down his arm and drip onto the ground.

With a grunt of pain, Draco gripped his arm, trying to halt the blood flow before he asked, "Harry, why do you think me your enemy? I just told you, I'm your warrior, your tool if you want me to be: you don't have to be alone!"

"Then prove yourself to me, warrior," snarled Harry, "Fight back, or are you as cowardly as Weasley when it comes to attacking?"

"Very well," Draco sighed, lifting his wand as he commanded, "_Everte Statum!_"

The power of the hex flew towards Harry, but it didn't make an impact as Draco found his spell being swallowed by a shield's vortex, the spell not really familiar to Draco, though he didn't have time to think as Harry commanded, "_Terraserpens!_"

Thick black vines suddenly sprang from the ground, their tips shaped like snake heads before Harry began to speak in a different tongue, /_Strike him: show no mercy!_/

Like poison ivy creeping across the jungle floor, the snake-headed vines moved towards Draco, Harry then commanded, "_Ivensi Unios!_"

At this command, the vines became one gigantic ivy-scaled serpent, the head of the snake moving to strike Draco; however, Draco, realising that kid gloves were off, shook his head: he should have guessed Harry was a Parseltongue.

It certainly explained his cold demeanour and the insistent way that he'd declared himself a Slytherin.

"_Boltun Burnae!_" Draco commanded, releasing a silver plume of flames from the end of his wand; as flame met ivy, flame won: the fiery conflagration began to consume the serpent, Draco keeping his wand raised as he asked again, "Harry, why are you fighting me? I thought you trusted me to keep my word: I don't care about Granger's joining us: not if she's here at the request of…of the Slytherin King. Please, let's stop this before one of us gets hurt."

"One of us _will_ get hurt, Draco Malfoy," Harry snarled, a sense of rippling magic filling the air as he added, "And for your poor choice in words, you'll be lucky to walk, you traitor: _Sectumsempra!_"

"How do you…AHHHH!" Draco screamed, unable to finish his question as the curse slashed at his chest, his robes being coated in blood as he fell to the floor, his body jerking from the power of the curse.

As he fell, Draco tried to breathe through the pain as he considered his unfinished question: how did Harry know _that_ curse?

Only two people, as far as Draco knew, were masters at that curse: one was their Head of House, Severus Snape, who originally created the curse and the second was the only person that he'd taught the curse to…but that was impossible.

After all, she was on the run for the past ten years…but…then again, only a Malfoy or a Black could learn the Seven Spikes Curse and Harry, through some weird twist of fate, knew the curse _and_ perfected it.

'Could…could it be…' Draco wondered, groggily lifting his wand and, pressing it to the crest on his robe, activated a charm that each member of the House had put on them on their first night…

An emergency summons charm to their Head of House…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Harry stood tall, proud and dominant, watching as Draco bled all over the floor, his eyes on the so-called Slytherin King as he pressed his wand to the crest; given that it wasn't easy to fool Harry, the young raven-haired wizard knew what he was doing.

He'd sensed the magic on his first morning and it had taken a few minutes' talk with Marcus Flint to learn about the charm: Professor Snape would be here in moments.

"I warned you, Draco," Harry scowled, sheathing his hawthorn wand as he picked up his cane, "Get in my way and you will get hurt."

"Potter!"

Looking up, Harry marvelled at the speed that his Head of House could move; Severus Snape stood over Draco, his wand already drawn and, as he lowered himself, he began muttering what Harry knew to be the counter curse to Sectumsempra.

With a smirk, Harry told him, "You know how I know this spell, Professor Snape: get in my way, betray me like you betrayed my Mother's friendship and you will feel it for yourself…Half-Blood Prince."

"How…how do you know these things?" asked Severus, Harry just scoffing as he moved past the fallen Slytherin and his Head of House, his last words edged by raw dark magic.

"You'd be surprised what I know…Snivellus Snape."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

The backlash from Harry's little duel with Draco happened just as the Silver Prince had hoped that it would: at breakfast the next morning, Professor Snape approached Harry and told him, "You will be escorting me to the Headmaster's office after breakfast, Potter: no excuses!"

"Anything you say," Harry replied, already drawing on his full power to keep his mind shielded from Dumbledore and Severus combined; he could harbour a guess that the old fool would try to read his mind or find out a little more about Bellatrix.

However, Harry wouldn't give him the chance to do either of those things as he would give the old man and Severus something to really worry about.

As he finished breakfast, Harry stood up and followed Severus out towards the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office, the eyes of the young Slytherin filled with anticipation as to what was to come. In a way, he'd been waiting for this meeting for a full month now and, after so long, Harry was surprised that he hadn't been summoned sooner.

Still, it didn't mean that he would just roll over and let the old man think he had the upper hand around here…

Not after _he_ was the reason that Harry had been left in hell for the better part of a year before being rescued by his real Mother…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Harry looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers' offices Harry had visited so far this year, Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting. If he hadn't been so full of rage and dark anticipation towards the old man, he would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises.

A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat.

Next to the old man's desk, Harry saw a rather elegant perch upon which sat a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey.

Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames. The bird, a phoenix, as Harry realised from reading his books and studies, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smouldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very sombre; Severus was standing behind the headmaster: both of them had disappeared into a side room after Dumbledore had seen the Head of Slytherin accompany the young student.

Settling into his classic attitude of apathetic and indifferent, Harry gave a cough before he remarked, "Headmaster, it seems that your phoenix has just gone through his Burning Day: shame he's going to be so ugly…when they mature, they're beautiful."

"Indeed, Harry," Dumbledore replied, Harry stifling a growl at the man's casual use of his name; who the hell did he think he was?

"And if I may, I would like to award five points to Slytherin for recognising a creature beyond your learning years. Not many first years recognise such noble creatures and would be looking for water to put out their fires."

"And you can also stop trying to read my mind," Harry then added, his voice laced with coldness as he indicated the splendour of the room around them, "After all, the last time you tried, I burned a plant: I'd hate to burn any of these amazing pieces around here."

Dumbledore's face was a look of shock as he did indeed withdraw his probe, still finding nothing within Harry's mind: this was wrong on so many levels.

Harry wasn't meant to be this cold, this strong or this fierce in his words; he wasn't even meant to be a Slytherin.

How had all of his plans managed to become so screwed by one little strand of fate?

"Very well, my boy," Dumbledore sighed, taking a seat in a similar golden chair to the one he used in the Great Hall, "Would you care for a lemon drop, my boy?"

"You mean the ones laced with Compulsion Charms and Calming Draughts that no doubt make it easy for you to manipulate your students?" asked Harry, keeping his voice calm as he added, "No thank you, Headmaster; never really a fan of lemon."

Severus was stunned into silence at the admission from Harry: he'd always suspected that Albus did something to his precious lemon drop stashes, but to do something like _that_ was cause for suspension if the wrong ears got wind of this.

And Harry, it seemed, wasn't done there, "Also, Headmaster, it's Mr Potter to you; the formal use of my first name comes after a trust is established and, to be honest, I couldn't trust you as far as the groundskeeper could throw you. And, while we're on it: don't ask questions about my upbringing or those walking death-wishes that I used to call my relatives because I'm not going to answer them. I'm _not_ going back to that House even if you paid me to go; I'm not going to apologise for what I did to Draco in our little practice duel and I'm not going to tell you anything about how I know most of your secrets and those of Snivellus Snape here."

"Then would you be so kind as to offer your wand for testing of the Dark Arts, Harry?" asked Dumbledore; he could use this to jinx Harry's wand with an obedience charm that would influence Harry every time he used the wand.

With a shrug, Harry did offer his wand, smirking internally as he saw Dumbledore's eyes widen with horror, his eyes darting to the ugly chick that had reared its head from within the ashes of the fallen phoenix.

"Something wrong, Headmaster?" asked Harry innocently, though he was roaring with laughter inside as he knew that the old fool had expected him to bear the holly and phoenix feather wand.

He'd tested that wand in Ollivander's and felt a light tingle against his magic, before he'd destroyed it as he'd sensed a connection to the Dark Lord Voldemort: he wanted nothing to do with that dead man.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore replied, handing Harry his wand back, the young wizard's magic already disabling the charm that Dumbledore had placed on it: did the old man think him so naïve that he couldn't sense when he was being used.

Still, he'd play the game for now: it was a real challenge to play a game of wits with someone that had none to begin with. "And, for your…practice duel, I must sadly inform you of a week's detention with Professor Snape and a hundred and fifty points from Slytherin for duelling in the corridors and harming another student."

"And yet I don't seem to care," Harry sighed, before he smirked once more and, with a single cough, he turned on his heel and left the office, leaving behind an Albus Dumbledore that was both worried for Harry and confident that his little addition to Harry's wand would do the trick.

What a senile old fool…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

As October started to pass by, Harry seemed to grow darker in attitude, using any and all opportunities to inflict damage on Slytherin and the students within; he seemed to gain and lose points simultaneously for his actions, all the while reserving his fury for his private moments where Draco and Blaise actually took turns standing outside the dorm.

Mostly to protect the students from the magical waves that emanated from Harry's body in these moments, but they also did it to hold true to their word to Harry that they were on his side.

One week before Halloween, Harry was sat at dinner, his attitude calm despite the demons that would rise up within the next seven days, before he looked up as a loud screech was aimed in his direction. Flying through the window, heading in his direction, was a rather proud-looking Eagle Owl with an envelope in its talons; dropping the envelope in front of Harry, the owl appeared to wait for an answer.

Opposite Harry, Draco suddenly went very white: the owl was the family owl that belonged to Lucius Malfoy and, if he was using that owl, then it had to be important. However, Draco had also been hesitant after his lesson in respect from Harry to tell his leader about the invitation for Halloween to the mansion: this wouldn't be good.

Opening the envelope, Harry saw a familiar fluid script that was written with precise diction and purpose:

_To the Honourable Heir of House Potter,_

_After a correspondence with my son and heir, Draco Alexander Malfoy, I, Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, wish to invite you to a little soiree that shall take place at sundown on the night known to the magical world as Samhain. This invitation can be rejected if the rumours that I've heard about you are true; however, I ask that you accept as I have a proposition for you that may benefit you and those _CLOSEST_ to you._

_I would also like to extend the invitation to the guardian that has turned you into the noble Slytherin that you have become; as part of the festivities, there shall be a pyre burned on the grounds of my estate in honour of your late parents and both you and Draco are welcome to stay the night with my express guarantee that I shall return you to Hogwarts the next morning._

_Know that I am not your enemy, Sire Potter, but one that can help release the energies within you and give you a way to show both sides of you with ease. I give you my word of honour that both you and your guardian will be safe and welcome here at Malfoy Manor: I'm sure that your guardian will oblige this._

_Send word back with my family's owl, Lucifer, within the next seven days;_

_Until then;_

_Lord Lucius Malfoy_

Harry, reading the letter several times, felt fury rise within him as he read the hints towards his guardian: Bellatrix was a Black and a relation of the Malfoys through Lady Narcissa Malfoy, which was the reason for Harry's surprise when he'd met Draco for the first time. But did this mean that Lucius knew that Mariah was really Bellatrix?

How?

He'd never met her and the only one that had any reason for suspicions was…Draco;

'_After a correspondence with my son and heir,_' Harry thought, quoting the letter as he rose and, looking to the owl, gave a scowl before he told it, "Wait in the Owlery until I choose to reply."

The owl seemed to be grateful to escape the angry pre-teen while Harry, leaving the Great Hall, smirked as he heard Draco's footfalls behind him; stopping in his tracks, Harry turned and let his magic out, using it to hold Draco in place, his hands clawing at his throat while Harry, his eyes burning with pure magic, hissed, "What do you know?"

"A-A-About…what?" asked Draco, his hands grabbing at his throat as he looked to Harry.

"You sent a letter to your Father about me," Harry snarled, his magic rising within him, a powerful cold wind blowing through the corridor, the cold having no effect on Harry while Draco's teeth chattered. "And I _know_ that you and the rest of the House have had questions about me: now, how much do you know?"

"I-I swear," Draco gasped, "I d-d-don't know w-w-what you're t-t-talking about, Harry: I s-s-s-sent the l-l-l-letter saying that I'd like F-F-Father to invite you t-t-to our Samhain party that w-w-we have every year. He sent a response saying that I was to watch you; he d-d-didn't say w-w-why!"

"So what does he know…about my guardian?" asked Harry, his voice still laced with coldness, "I won't let anyone separate us; I won't let them take me; it won't happen! I'll _kill_ anyone who dares try!"

"F-F-F-Father must w-w-want to m-m-m-meet the one that r-r-raised you s-s-s-so well," Draco stammered, the coldness and confidence in Harry's voice as clear as day to him, "B-B-B-But I d-d-don't know anything a-a-about your g-g-g-guardian. I'm on y-y-your side, Harry; I swear it!"

Pulling his magic back in, Harry dropped Draco before he looked to the letter and, with a scowl, told Draco, "Then send word to your Father; tell him that not only would I be honoured to attend this little party, but give him the warning about my guardian that I just gave you. And remember, Draco Alexander Malfoy, I once told you that if you're not with me, then you're against me and I'm sure you don't need a reminder of what happens when you stand against me, do you?"

"No…sir," Draco replied, inclining his head to Harry before he left the Silver Prince alone in the corridor.

However, despite his calm attitude, Harry was still nervous:

'What does Lucius Malfoy know about Bellatrix?'

**Chapter 5 and Harry has demonstrated his power to Draco, seemingly attracted the attention of Neville and managed to evade Dumbledore's attempts to get answers, but what can he do against a master of the Game like Lucius?**

**Also, can Halloween change things for Harry in the matter of trusting people and letting others in?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Samhain and Lucius reveals whether or not he knows; also, Harry has a request of his Head of House and Narcissa Malfoy has a word with the Silver Prince while Draco and Lucius make a plan to show Harry the true strength of Slytherins…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: As you can see, I'm also planning to bring our other favourite Lion into this, but it will be some time before he does so; also, Harry's master/disciple relationship with Hermione is what will lead to the pairing: you can probably guess where I'll make it official…**

**OC SPELLS:**

_**Boltun Burnae: **_**The Flashfire Curse: Summons a torrent of flames that can only be doused by the caster or when the target is fully incinerated;**

_**Ivensi Unios: **_**The Nature's Unity Hex: Combines a large amount of earth/plant-based targets into one singular form**

_**Terraserpens; **_**The Snake-Vine Hex: Binds your opponent in thick serpentine vines that, with enough magic, can poison an opponent.**

_**Lancus Septima: **_**The Seven Spikes Curse: Can only be learned/taught by a member of the Black/Malfoy/Lestrange families: Impales the target with seven acupuncture-like needles that can paralyse, poison, incapacitate or kill on contact through magic or blood loss: the greater the control of the curse, the less space used by the seven spikes.**


	6. The Choices We Make

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**EndlessChains: I see, then in that case, I thank you for the comment; Hermione is indeed Harry's only true advocate in the darkness given she is being drawn into it like he's held her in his coils – sorry, Slytherin reference there – and now he seeks the path to his future;**

**T4: You'll just have to keep reading to find out the answer, won't you, old friend?**

**StormyFireDragon: The time is coming where he will do just that, Storm: I hope you like what I do next;**

_Pulling his magic back in, Harry dropped Draco before he looked to the letter and, with a scowl, told Draco, "Then send word to your Father; tell him that not only would I be honoured to attend this little party, but give him the warning about my guardian that I just gave you. And remember, Draco Alexander Malfoy, I once told you that if you're not with me, then you're against me and I'm sure you don't need a reminder of what happens when you stand against me, do you?"_

_"No…sir," Draco replied, inclining his head to Harry before he left the Silver Prince alone in the corridor._

_However, despite his calm attitude, Harry was still nervous:_

_'What does Lucius Malfoy know about Bellatrix?'_

Chapter 6: The Choices We Make

Severus was quick to agree to the idea of Harry being away from Hogwarts on Halloween and so, when Draco sent word to his Father, taking great care to remind Lucius of the warning from Harry, the Head of Slytherin also took the chance to speak with his young charge. Calling him into his office after a Potions lesson, the dark-haired mentor watched as Harry seemed both bored and hungry for something that he couldn't get in Hogwarts.

Having seen the wounds inflicted on Draco after their little duel, Severus knew what that something was: Harry was hungry to use the Dark Arts again: not as an addiction or a fearful fall into the darkness, since he was already so deep in the darkness that he'd have to tunnel down to get back up.

No, this hunger came from the fact that, combined with the emotions surrounding the day that would come in less than twenty four hours' time, Harry's emotional state was like a rabid dragon combined with a threatened and cornered animal.

This was when he was at his most dangerous: therefore, Severus had to choose his words carefully as he didn't wish to start the fires, not just yet.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Mr Potter," Severus told him, Harry then aware of a Silencing and Privacy Ward being erected around the office: they would be alone in this conversation. "I understand that you'd rather be alone given what tomorrow means to you, but I was wondering if we may have a little talk."

"About what?" asked Harry, knowing that, because it was just the two of them, Severus could talk about anything.

And, as Harry half-expected, the man took full advantage of that fact as he explained, "I'd like to talk to you some more about your trust and less-than stoic state around your guardian, Mariah McKnight, better known to the two of us as Bellatrix Lestrange."

"I told you all that you need to know, Professor Snape." Harry informed him, not throwing any punches or giving a sign that he was going to oblige the man's request, "Other than that, you'll know more if and when I choose to tell you, not when you demand it of me. I'm grateful that you've honoured the vow that you swore to me when we first met, but, with the exception of what I have told you, I am saying nothing more on that topic for now."

Severus noticed that the 'for now' part of the explanation was said with a darker tone than normal for the cold-hearted Slytherin; he, of course, knew about Lucius' letter to Draco and, like Severus _knew_ it, there was no doubt in the man's mind that Lucius suspected the true identity of Harry's guardian.

It would certainly be confirmed if Lucius took a closer look at Draco and saw the slightly-faded points on his son's body from the Seven Spikes Curse.

Changing tack, Severus asked, "Very well, onto a similar topic, I would like to know just how it is that you seem to know so much about the way things are around here? More importantly, how do you of the nickname that your Father cursed me with during his time here at Hogwarts?"

"My Father wasn't the only one to use that name," Harry answered him, pointing now to Severus with a look of dark amusement in his eyes, "And you know it as well as I do; he may have made it up, but that doesn't mean he was the only one to use it. As for other little tricks, such as our so-called _loving_ Headmaster's likeness for potion-laced sweets, I know of them because nothing was kept from me during my training. If I wanted to know about it, I was told about it: I'm stronger, meaner and more of a warrior than most of the higher years around here because I _chose_ to surrender myself to my training. Other than that, you don't need to know anything that I don't choose to share with you…or anyone else, for that matter."

"Noted," Severus remarked, before he turned to a subject that, as the Head of Slytherin, had not escaped his attention since the end of September, "But, if you'll…indulge me, Mr Potter, would you care to explain why a fourth year fears the ground you walk on and why a Muggleborn student is now part of our House despite being a Ravenclaw student?"

"Hermione Granger is someone that intrigues me," Harry told him, his choice in words making the hairs on Severus' neck stand on end, a shiver crossing the man's body as he was reminded of the Dark Lord and how he was _intrigued_ by certain people. "The Ravenclaws abandoned her to her fate simply for her love of knowledge and the way she lost herself in her learning techniques. When I found her, she was willing to learn from me about showing them what a real person can do when given the opportunity and, whether it takes me seven days, seven weeks, seven months or, by Salazar's Guts, the entire seven years of my Hogwarts tenure, I will find a way to release that potential."

Severus noticed that the _interest_ that Harry had for this Ravenclaw-turned-Slytherin actually seemed to be genuine as well as intriguing while Harry continued, "As for her being a member of Ravenclaw House, I spoke with Professor Flitwick after the…event in question and, after twisting the truth to make it sound like I was taking her under my wing with her being a Muggleborn and me being the son of a Pure House, I convinced him to let her stay."

"And what did Professor Flitwick say?" asked Severus, all too aware of the fact that Harry had spoken to the Charms Master; he'd heard about a meeting early in October that had given Filius a real insight into how Harry Potter could change.

"He said that it was fine," Harry remarked, his voice calm again as he continued, "Though if Granger wishes to remain a Slytherin, then you, Professor Snape, must enact the Head's Transfer Rite at the end of this school year otherwise she has no choice but to stay in Ravenclaw, which also means she loses out on her teachings."

"And what if I choose not to accept her as a Slytherin?" asked Severus, but he soon regretted it as, what had become the norm for whenever Harry's emotions heightened, a pressure like that of sub-zero conditions suddenly blew through the office, Harry's magic crackling against his skin as he answered the Potions Master.

"That would be extremely painful and unfortunate…for you, Professor Snape; you know what I can do and, even if I have to resort to blackmail of a different form, I will! Now, if that's everything, I'll say good-night."

Harry left the office, leaving behind a _very_ frightened Severus Snape as he considered the ramifications of the young Slytherin's words…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Back in the Common Room, Harry called Hermione over to a private area of the room, his magic helping to keep them quiet from their fellow students before he addressed her as the Master that he has become, "You are progressing well, Granger: learning each and every day what it means to be one of us, but you are not a true Slytherin yet."

"How do you mean, Master?" asked Hermione, her voice laced with worry as she added, "Have I done something to displease you or embarrass you in any way?"

"No," Harry told her, before he grew serious as he explained, "But you still let yourself be pushed around by those who think you a weak and meagre Muggleborn. More to the point, you let those who insult you use…_that_ name and I will say it now; I have no love for Muggles, but I will _not_ have that name used towards or by a member of Slytherin. My Mother, though I never knew of her, was Muggleborn and an insult to them is an insult to her, which is an insult to me! I trust you understand the meaning behind my little point, my disciple?"

"Yes, Master," Hermione nodded, her voice wavering as the waves of magic could be felt from the barrier around her as well as the anger-driven magic from her mentor and saviour.

"In that case," Harry told her, his voice filled with determination and domination as he commanded her, "The next time someone uses that word in your direction or in your earshot, I want, no, I _order_ you to deal with them and let this school know that the very mention of…_Mud…blood_ is taboo around here. Do this for me, my dark apprentice, and you will have finally proven to me that you belong here in Slytherin."

"I will prove myself worthy to you, Master," Hermione told him, before she swallowed hard as she asked, "But, Master, what if the offending party _is_ a Slytherin?"

"Then silence them," Harry growled, his magic crackling against his skin once again, "I had Draco address me as something that intrigues me and, when I leave here tomorrow, I may yet investigate. But, if the offending party is a Slytherin, then you will silence them and inform them that they have committed treason against the Slytherin King."

There was a hint of liking to the way that he said the title, but Hermione just listened as her saviour and mentor continued, "It doesn't matter who it is, Granger; they will _all_ learn the price of disrespecting the honour and lineage of witches and wizards as powerful as you and I."

"I understand, Master," Hermione remarked, inclining her head in a bow to show that she accepted her master's orders, "And…if I do this for you, may…may I ask something in return?"

"What?" asked Harry, rising from his seat and, without even trying, lowered the barrier around them as sound and feeling returned to the Slytherin Common Room.

"Would…would it be all right if I asked you to…to start using my first name?" asked Hermione, but she didn't get an answer.

All she saw was his back as Harry left the Common Room and returned to the dormitory…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Lucius met Draco and Harry at the entrance to Hogwarts the next morning; because he didn't need to dress in his school robes, Harry had chosen to remain in his dark element with his choice in attire.

Decked out in a dark-blue shirt with stone-grey denim jeans and black shoes, he looked pretty cold enough, though the long black duster that he'd favoured when he was at the orphanage certainly highlighted the point: this was someone who enjoyed the darkness and all that it gave to him.

Offering a polite hand to Lucius, Harry spoke with the same apathetic tone as he explained, "Lord Malfoy, I'd like to thank you for your invitation to a ceremony tonight; before we go anywhere, I think it only fair that we go and collect my guardian."

"If that is what we must do, Mr Potter," Lucius agreed, taking Harry and Draco's hands before, with a quick twist, they vanished from the entrance of Hogwarts, reappearing on the front door-step of St Christopher's, Harry letting go all too quickly as he moved through the doors in search of his target.

Moving up to his room, Harry nearly smiled when he saw 'Mariah' sat waiting for him, dressed in what appeared to be a long black gown decorated with a blood-red rose.

When she saw that it was him, a smile crossed her face as she asked, "Harry, is Mr Malfoy waiting for us downstairs?"

"Yes," Harry replied, trying not to let his dark mask fall in the presence of the one person that he truly let into his circle, "But…before we go, I think we should…talk."

As he said this, he closed the door and, sealing it with a click of his fingers, Harry then added, "You're related to the Malfoys through Draco's Mother; just like you told me when you trained me: so…is it possible for them to know who you really are?"

"It is possible," Bellatrix answered, her visage now more like her real self as she looked to her young ward, "I could never fool Narcissa when it came to trying to act like someone else and, more than likely, Lucius will know because of the manner that you've done so well in keeping to."

"I've…I've missed you, Bellatrix," Harry told her, his voice cracking slightly as he admitted what he'd been feeling for the past month.

"And I've missed you, Harry," Bella smiled, standing up from Harry's bed and, moving to him, she put her arms around him, her darkness enveloping Harry like the safety and comforting blanket of power and emotion that he'd come to know and admire in his guardian.

While he seemed reluctant to actually allow her into his coldness, Bellatrix just held him in her soft embrace as she told him, "But I can see it in you; you've used both sides of your power and, from what I see of my dear brother-in-law and my lovely nephew, it's clear to me that you, my little one, are really making a name for yourself in Slytherin."

"Just like you taught me," Harry told her, his eyes filled with the same cold light that Bellatrix had always admired in her student/ward, "I don't let anyone stand above me, not even Severus: I've proven my power to those who thought that I was nothing more than a weakling and I even have two members of Slytherin addressing me as Master."

"And…do you like it, my little master?" asked Bellatrix, using a little nickname that had always cheered Harry up during his training.

Harry let a smile show on his face, though it was less cheery and more like someone who was anticipating a bloodbath in a horror movie as he answered her, "Oh yes!"

"Then," Bellatrix told him, letting go of Harry before she shifted back into Mariah for the time being, "Let's not keep our guests waiting, Harry: today is a special day after all."

Harry's face was back to what he considered normal by the time she'd finished speaking, his stone-hard gaze and iron-hard will set back upon his apathetic expression as he led her out of the Orphanage.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Apparating from St Christopher's to Malfoy Manor would have been difficult if Lucius had been forced to do the deed alone; however, once they were a short ways from the eyesight of the Muggles, 'Mariah' had taken Harry's hand and, with a soft pop, Apparated him straight to the gates where Lucius, having gone on ahead with Draco, told her, "You certainly have some skills, Madam."

"More than you know, Lucius," 'Mariah' replied, but, as Harry glanced to Draco, who held a look of fear on his face as he waited for the inevitable, Lucius' response was simply to laugh before he indicated the gates.

"I have keyed you into our grounds, Mr Potter," he explained, watching as Harry stepped forwards, "So, if you and…your guardian would step through the gates, we can get on with the business at hand."

Harry approached the gates and, just as he reached out to push them open, he found his hand slipping through the gates as though it was nothing more than a veil parting one side of the world from the other. Stepping through the veil, which gave the impression that Harry was made up of smoke as he did so, the cold-hearted Slytherin watched as 'Mariah' followed him through.

As she did so, Harry noticed that her body seemed to shimmer before it was replaced by the visage of Bellatrix that he was so used to, Lucius and Draco passing through moments later.

When Draco saw Bellatrix standing there, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened, but Lucius, who just nodded as though something had been confirmed, addressed Harry, "I had my suspicions, Mr Potter, but I give my word of honour as a Malfoy that I mean you and your guardian no ill will: it is nice to see my errant sister-in-law again, I will admit. But, as your letter warned me, you will not allow her to be taken from you, so I tell you this: I have no such wishes or desires to separate you. And, while we're on the topic, Bellatrix: would you care to tell me just how you thought it right to teach a young boy our family's signature curse?"

"I don't hold anything back from Harry, Lucius," Bellatrix informed her brother-in-law, her voice filled with a strength that Harry had not heard since that first day when they'd started training. "He has the potential and the power to be the greatest wizard in history and, be that good or evil, it doesn't matter to me. For nearly five years, I have watched as he became the same kind of dark wizard and closed spirit that our family respected and valued: he may be in an orphanage, but I see him as the son I never had and, unlike you to Draco, I won't keep anything from him: Light, Grey _or_ Dark Arts! He'll learn it all as and when he wants to."

"And are you aware that he has now run off into the grounds?" asked Lucius, watching as Bellatrix turned on her heel; sure enough, Harry, who had taken off after hearing how she thought of him as a son, was gone.

Moving towards Bellatrix, Lucius explained, "He's never known that feeling, Bella: he knows you care for him, but I see that Draco's words about him not letting anyone see his weakness are now proven true."

"Shall I go and find him, Father?" asked Draco, actually worried for the future leader of the Slytherin House.

"And risk another Sectumsempra to the chest," Lucius exclaimed, Bellatrix actually surprised as she heard the information, "Severus told me what the curse was, but I never did believe that he could cast it until I saw your aunt today, Dragon. No, I suggest that we leave young Harry to wander the grounds; if he's not back in before the party begins, then we'll go looking for him. He can't leave the Manor without someone knowing, especially not without me knowing as the Lord of the Manor. No: come on Bellatrix, Draco; let's go and introduce Narcissa to Harry Potter's guardian."

With that, Draco and Bellatrix followed Lucius into the house, leaving a worried and actually confused Harry Potter alone in the grounds…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Harry hurt:

He had listened as Bellatrix had defined the reason behind his training and how she didn't keep anything from him, which was truth and had actually made Harry feel safe and comfortable once more within his dark element. However, when she'd revealed to Lucius that she saw Harry as the son she never had, it was too much, even for him.

Now, sat in a courtyard around the back of the rather exquisite-looking Manor, his head resting against a marble-stone pillar in the courtyard, the Halloween sun shining down on his face, Harry finally had a chance to let go.

"Why would she say that?" he wondered, his hands trembling as he sat there, "Why say that I'm like a son to her when I have no room in my life for anything like that? Bellatrix trained me to be a dark warrior, a leader, a Master and someone that could look out for himself, so…so why force me to experience…those feelings."

He remembered the stories that Bellatrix had told him about how she'd found him with his Muggle relatives; these things always helped when Harry had needed to put intention into his spells and curses, but now, just thinking about those stories made Harry feel…hollow.

Today, he understood, was about saying goodbye to his family;

So how could Bellatrix think that, by saying goodbye to one, Harry was willing to say hello to the other?

"No," he whispered, rising from his seat and, just standing there, he let his magic answer his question: the ground beneath his feet cracked and, all around him, an icy wind blew through the courtyard, turning the leaves on the trees and plants into frosted foliage, some of them snapping off their stems as Harry hissed icily, "I don't need anyone, least of all family."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Lucius was the first to feel the magic that affected his home;

Sat in the plush lounge of Malfoy Manor with his wife Narcissa, who was almost as pretty-looking as Bellatrix with her white hair and cold blue eyes, her pale skin and her refined, noblewoman's features, the Lord of the Malfoys suddenly stood and, looking to his family, including Bellatrix, he told them, "There's a problem."

Then the icy wind that had blown through the courtyard now blew through the house, putting out the fire that had burned in the hearth of the fireplace, chilling their hot mugs of tea and making Narcissa shiver, though Draco, Bellatrix and Lucius all spoke the same word, "Harry."

"How…how can he…he do this?" asked Narcissa, rising with her family and, drawing her wand, she followed them out to the courtyards, "Who…who is he?"

"That was the million Galleon question for all of last month, Mother," Draco replied, his voice wavering from the cold that he could feel; being a student of Hogwarts, he'd felt Harry's icy warnings before, but this…this was different.

Knowing that it would be a mistake to hide his findings from his family, Draco added, "And I give the same answer every time: he's Harry Potter: not the Boy-Who-Lived or a saviour or anything like that: he's Harry: a pre-teen boy with the maturity and emotional war inside him of a man."

"An…an eleven-year-old boy?" asked Narcissa, following Lucius out through the rear entrance that led into one of her favourite courtyards, "How…how can one boy have…such a war…in him?"

"His past is darker than him," Bellatrix answered, Lucius hesitating for a moment as he reached for the door, only to pull his hand back with a cry, the skin on his palm showing the redness and swollen effects of frostbite; if it had been his fingers, Lucius may have lost some. "Draco, have you ever asked him about it?"

"Once," Draco admitted, his voice shaking as he saw the damage done to his Father, "And once was enough: he said that he had his secrets and as long as we respected them, he'd be civil with us, but, Aunt Bellatrix, how…how can he…he do…well, this?"

"Harry's always have an affinity with the elements," Bellatrix explained, watching as Lucius cast the Alohomora Charm on his door; when it blew open, an even icier wind blew into the passageway, frosting over several of the portraits and leaving a trail of black ice against the tiled floor of the dining hall.

Like it was the most normal thing for her to witness, Bellatrix sniffed before she added, "Particularly what some would call the Big Three: Fire, Ice and Lightning; he's never really used them, but whenever his magic or his emotions were threatened, there they were, ready to defend him. He burned an ivy plant when Dumbledore tried to read his mind and, when he gets upset or angry, icy winds blow around him: I can only recall one time when he had lightning come to his aid and I was thankful that I was the one that found him."

"Why?" asked Narcissa, casting several powerful warming charms on her family to keep them protected against the big freeze that had blown through their home, "What happened?"

"He had a nightmare."

To Bellatrix's surprise, it was Draco that had answered the question; looking down at her nephew, she nodded in response, "That's…that's right, but how…"

"He had a nightmare one night at Hogwarts," Draco told her, his voice filled with regret as he recalled the night and the damage that had been done the day afterwards, "He was screaming like a man possessed and not even Severus' Silencing Ward could stop him: then there's the electrical magic that protects his trunk."

"Yes," Bellatrix smiled, shuddering at the icy feelings that she could sense from everyone in the room; whatever was causing this…this snowstorm would need to be stopped before Malfoy Manor became a one-house North Pole, "That was his idea and the only time he's willingly used the power; it's the same when the magic crackles on his skin: it's a warning for others. I've never really trained him in those powers because he didn't need them, but now…"

"Now we'd better deal with him and see about this training before he hurts himself," Narcissa finished, Bellatrix nodding in agreement with her sister as they moved out to the courtyard.

It was like walking into the Ice Age: the marble-stone archways and seating areas of the courtyard were now glazed over, their stony appearances transformed into crystalline glaciers of thick ice. The ground around them was blackened and unsteady due to cracks and splinters of ice that poked up through the ground, making it rather hazardous to walk on.

Above the courtyard, a dark cloud had begun to form and was raining down a blizzard onto the ground, the centre of the blizzard being controlled by an icy tornado that billowed around a lone figure.

"Harry!" Bellatrix exclaimed, lifting her wand and, hoping to reach her ward, she cast several powerful Incendios on the ice; however, as fire met ice, it was ice that won as the flames were swallowed by the storm.

"Harry, what's wrong, little master? What's upset you? I didn't mean for you to hear what I said! If that's it; I'm sorry: please, you need to calm down before you freeze everything and everyone here!"

"No!" Yelled Harry, his voice as cold as the ice that he had somehow summoned, "You…you're all the same: you want me to open up, to feel, to weep and to bleed like a mortal man. That's why you said it, Bellatrix! That's why you said I was like a son to you: I don't need that; I don't need _anyone!_"

"We know," Draco cried, stepping from behind the adults and, looking into the eye of the storm, he exclaimed, "I get it now, Harry: you don't need anyone because you've always been alone! And I know you may think that I want you to open up, to be a friend, but if you don't want to, then I won't force you. I already learned my lesson when you ripped me open like you did: I'll do whatever you say, Harry!"

The storm didn't pass, but Draco knew that this was what needed to be said: taking a leap of faith, he stepped into the storm, his voice echoing through the howling winds and frost-driven snowfall as he exclaimed, "You don't need anyone, but you do need people who will obey you! I can be that; Blaise can be that: hell, Granger can be that: we'll obey you; we'll kneel before you and await your orders. We're not your friends, Harry: we're your tools, pawns in a game of chess between you and those who choose to try and break you! We're pawns and you, Harry, you're the King: the Slytherin King; the Apex Predator; top of the food chain!"

"Why should I believe you?" asked Harry, the ice now whipping its way towards Draco, who grunted in pain as he felt the cold whip at his cheek, the sharp touch of the ice lashing at his skin.

"Because you know that I'll never betray you," Draco told him, "You've seen it; you forced me to witness your power and I don't admire it, Harry: I _fear_ it! I fear what this power can do if and when I choose to stand against you! But I don't want you to feel like you _need_ to be human; you're not human, you're a God: a Dark God and I…"

He dropped to his knees and, letting his wand fall to the floor, he told Harry, "I give myself to you; your orders, your laws and your punishments. I pledge my life, my magic and my soul to you, my King; command me and I will obey. I will be your sword and this power will be your shield: use it on me as you will, but I will never abandon you."

"Draco," Lucius whispered, before he gasped as Bellatrix and Narcissa joined Draco, all three of them kneeling in a fashion to how Lucius had once bowed before Voldemort.

Was that how powerful Harry truly was?

Was that what he could become?

A power greater than Voldemort and yet superior in the ways of darkness?

From what Lucius could see, the answer was yes;

He too dropped to his knees, his head bowed before, as one, all four of them asked Harry, "What is your will, my Master?"

The words, the submissions and the way that they brought themselves before him so easily; these things combined seemed to reach Harry, his wind and ice moving away, the power and the damaging results remaining, though the storm soon passed.

When the cyclone that had sealed Harry in its embrace passed, the Slytherin King seemed weakened, but he held himself strong.

Seeing this, Draco ran to Harry's side and offered his arm, "Let me support you; your enemies should not see you on your knees."

"Thank…thank you, Draco," Harry whispered, keeping his body upright thanks to Draco's support; glancing around, Harry actually gulped before he looked to Narcissa and Lucius as he added, "I…I can repair this…this damage, Lord Malfoy."

"Leave that to us, Slytherin King," Lucius explained, moving towards Harry so that he had a second support to lean on; as he led Harry inside, he continued, "Draco is right, you know: this is your destiny, Mr Potter. Not to be friends or have your circle, not unless you wish to have those close to you: I realise now that it was wrong to insinuate that I meant anything bad against Bellatrix and for that, I apologise."

"Lucius is right, Harry," Bellatrix added, surprising the Malfoys when she took Harry and lifted him into her arms with ease, his head resting against her chest as she held him, "Your destiny is to rule: with these powers and your greatness with magic, you have it in you to become a darker lord than…than Voldemort could ever hope to be."

Here, she looked over at Lucius, wondering if she should share with him the secrets of her relinquishing the Dark Mark, before she added, "But you don't have to do it alone: you have us: your warriors and willing servants who will do whatever they can and must to obey your commands. Lucius, Narcissa and I can be your true mentors in these powers while Draco and your Slytherin subjects can be advocates and allies only; if you want them as friends, then that's your decision, but what will never change is that we are all now obliged and intending to serve you, the new Dark Lord."

"Darkness is my ally," Harry told her, his voice carrying so that Draco heard it as he followed the now-named Slytherin King into the Manor, "And it is my only friend: but…I can't learn my craft alone."

"You won't be alone," Narcissa told Harry, her hand remaining clasped in his as she helped her sister to carry him, "We will always be here to help you, Lord Slytherin."

"Maybe," Harry sighed, his voice addressing the foursome that had penetrated his armour thanks to their loyalty, "One day, Lady Malfoy, you can call me that, but, until I master these powers, can you…can you call me…Harry?"

"If that is what you wish," Lucius replied, a smile touching his lips as he saw the boy within the hardened monster of the madness;

Yes, Bellatrix was right;

Harry Potter, whether the world liked it or not, would one day become the new Dark Lord;

And, on that day the world, specifically the sheep of the Light and, especially, Albus Dumbledore would look into the eyes of this new Dark Lord and tremble as they asked themselves one question:

"What have we done?"

**Chapter 6 and Harry has chosen his path: he desires power enough to topple Voldemort and become the Slytherin King, but with his destiny decided, can our Dark Lord in Training learn to trust others to aid him in this quest?**

**Plus, what sort of effect will he have to bring to Hogwarts to **_**make**_** them recognise him as the Slytherin King?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Lucius comes to a surprise conclusion about Harry while Harry himself is offered a way to the future he so desires; also, when Harry returns to Hogwarts, he finds a surprise waiting for him from his disciple that has an unexpected outcome on their alliance;**

**Please Read and Review…**


	7. The Tasks At Hand

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**MrGagaSlashLover: I'll take that as meaning you're enjoying this story, in which case, I'm thankful;**

**EndlessChains: The true path to Harry's ultimate power begins now…as our King prepares to choose his Knights;**

_Yes, Bellatrix was right;_

_Harry Potter, whether the world liked it or not, would one day become the new Dark Lord;_

_And, on that day the world, specifically the sheep of the Light and, especially, Albus Dumbledore would look into the eyes of this new Dark Lord and tremble as they asked themselves one question:_

_"What have we done?"_

Chapter 7: The Tasks At Hand

As the day continued and the atmosphere within Malfoy Manor returned to normal, Lucius Malfoy spent a fair amount of time trying to repair the damage done to his home's exterior, his eyes filled with wonder and shock at the levels of magic that he could see around here. When Bellatrix had said that Harry had an affinity with the elements, she wasn't kidding, but to create a new environment and manipulate earth, sea and sky with this level of precision took a control that took other elemental-blessed wizards years to master.

Then, Lucius thought to himself, there was how his own family had kneeled before the storm-cloaked boy and given themselves to him as easily as Lucius had given himself to the Dark Lord.

Once again, the question burned in Lucius' mind: was Harry Potter capable of becoming an even darker presence than that of the Dark Lord?

Lucius had never really been intimidated by the Dark Arts: not when his Father, Abraxas Malfoy, had used them on an almost daily basis to drill it into his son that, in reality, there was no good or evil, but there was power.

The more power you possessed, the higher station you could afford to command and reign over your lesser.

However, the darkness and the fury within this eleven-year-old boy; this was something that Lucius _did_ fear: the shivers that had passed through him were similar to the shivers when Lucius had felt the dark energies from his time as a Death Eater. This time, however, those energies were filled with fear and a realisation that both Harry and Draco spoke the truth.

Harry about what would happen when you chose to threaten his way of life and his beliefs and Draco about not being someone that would willingly stand in the way of this dark sovereign, the Apex Predator as Draco had called him, and think you could survive.

Yes, Lucius Malfoy was afraid of the power;

But, without wanting too much, he could hardly ignore the summons of his cursed Mark: though Bellatrix had somehow relinquished her own Dark Mark, there was no guarantee that Lucius could so willingly do the same.

Especially not without the permission of the new Dark Lord;

'No,' Lucius thought, placing his hand on the arm where his Dark Mark had remained silent for years, 'Not without doing something to prove my worth to him…to my new Lord…and King.'

As he went on with his work, Lucius was unaware of a pair of cold emerald-green eyes watching him from above…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Harry, standing at the window of the impressively-sized Malfoy Manor Library, watched as Lucius went to work on the icy state that he had left the courtyard in, his own emerald-green eyes filled with no signs of emotion or guilt about what he'd done. Instead, his gaze and his mind were both focused on the small motion of the Malfoy Lord: the motion of his left hand gripping his right arm.

Being raised by an ex-Death Eater, Harry had known about the Dark Mark and he'd also known that Bellatrix had spent over a year trying to find a way to sever the bond with the former creator of said mark, Lord Voldemort.

In their trainings, she'd told Harry all about the mark and how it bound the bearer to the creator in loyalty and fealty; it also allowed the creator to summon the bearer and, through emotional control and wandless magic, cause a fair amount of pain to alert the bearer to the summons or needs of the creator.

However, the fact that Lucius also bore a Dark Mark was something that both unnerved and intrigued Harry: he was someone that had been close to the murdering pretender that had called itself a Dark Lord. And how had he been defeated?

By a mere child who could no more wave a wand than he could wiggle his fingers?

It was laughable, but Harry didn't laugh: instead, he folded his arms and, watching Lucius, Harry began to wonder what had truly brought on the loyalty of the Malfoys; Draco, he knew, had given Harry his loyalty simply because he did not wish to cross swords with the Slytherin King once again.

But the Lady Malfoy, or Narcissa as he had learned and she had insisted, as well as Lucius: they were two that Harry knew that he needed to either confront or observe for the time being.

If it was revealed that, against his promise, Lucius did indeed wish to use Harry for his own purposes and threaten the way of life and the belief of wanting to be alone, then Harry knew that he'd need to silence the man.

However, there was something that Harry could tell about Narcissa that told him that she wouldn't betray him: she was Bellatrix's sister and, like his dark-haired guardian, she was someone that seemed to care about Harry's choices for the future and choose to let him embrace the coldness that his heart had been held in for most of his life.

She had also addressed him as Young Master and Slytherin King and, though he couldn't read minds – not yet anyway – Harry had just known that she was sincere in her address.

Therefore, Harry suspected that Narcissa was someone that needed to be watched, but not because she was someone who could betray him: on the contrary, she was someone that could weaken his defences and force him to show a more humane side.

He only allowed Bellatrix to see that side of him; everyone else would see the black-hearted demon that he had become and, if they didn't like it, then, as far as Harry was concerned, they had better know the name of a good funeral director.

Now that he knew of his choice for the future that awaited him, Harry knew that what he needed was more power; he needed to know the whole story behind his elemental powers and the command that he possessed over his wandless magic.

For that, he had the Malfoys and their endless supplies and resources for knowledge and the acquisition of new resources; they thought they were using him, if such a thing was true, but, in due time, Harry would be the one using them.

With that thought in his mind, Harry turned away from the window and, taking his sweet time, he began to explore the walls, shelves and stacks of the library, his eyes filled with their same cold glare as he moved through the books and items of knowledge that he could see around him.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

"Harry?"

Lightly shaken awake by the voice of Narcissa Malfoy, though in his slightly sleep-ridden state, he didn't know that, Harry drew his hawthorn wand from his cane and pointed it at her, the hands of the Malfoy Lady lifting to show that she was unarmed as she told him, "Sorry; I didn't mean to wake you: I thought that you might be hungry, so I brought you some dinner."

As she said this, Harry watched as she turned and handed him a plate of fresh sandwiches along with a glass of ice-cold pure orange; setting them down in front of him, Narcissa asked, "Mind if I join you?"

Harry answered by indicating the seat across from where he was seated; setting the book that he'd clearly fallen asleep reading aside, he began to pick at the food, his voice its usual apathetic state as he murmured, "Thank you."

"That's all right," Narcissa answered, knowing that it was more than likely that he didn't mean what he said; as he ate, she continued, "Lucius is finally finished outside and he and I have been talking with Bellatrix…about ways that we can help you."

"Oh?" asked Harry, taking a drink before he asked, "And how do you think that you can help me, Narcissa?"

"Well," Narcissa answered, "I'm not doing this to weaken you or make you feel like you need to answer, but, in light of what you've decided and what we've sworn to do to help you, Lucius and I were wondering…whether or not you'd like us to officially adopt you?"

The sandwich that Harry was eating fell back onto the plate as he looked to Narcissa with those cold eyes of his, his voice hard as he asked, "And why would that affect my destiny?"

"It wouldn't," Narcissa explained, her voice calm as she saw the tension in the expression of the new Slytherin King, "What it would do is give you a failsafe against those who would want you away from the magical world as well as give you a place where you can learn, train and use as much magic as you want and not have to worry about the Ministry breathing down your neck. Also, it would allow you to see Bellatrix in her true form rather than the disguise of Mariah McKnight and, at least here, she'd be able to be free to be herself."

'That would be an advantage,' Harry thought, resuming his light meal as he asked, "And how do you and Lucius benefit from this? I told you, Narcissa, I don't want and don't need a family: so what do you get out of this?"

"Nothing that you don't choose to give to us," Narcissa answered, her face now set in a classic Malfoy-like pose: her eyes were filled with determination and her lips were set in a calm, unreadable expression. "I don't do this to take advantage of you in any way, Harry: all it would mean is that you have an official guardian as well as the right to go anywhere you want and do whatever you please."

She paused for a moment, giving herself time to remember that this wasn't a boy who wanted a family: this was a warrior; the future Dark Lord.

Changing tack, Narcissa then added, "Also, since Lucius would be your paternal guardian, he could arrange several things through his…connections if you ever needed them: for example, he could ensure that you have no more surprise encounters with a certain headmaster and he would speak with Severus about keeping his mouth shut."

Finishing his snack, Harry leaned back in his chair, his fingers linked as he considered what she was saying: the resources and connections of the Malfoy Lord would be a great asset in his conflicts and trials that loomed ahead of him; however, there were still the thoughts that had caught his attention from earlier.

Could the man be trusted or would he simply be doing this in some inane hope that Harry would release him from the Dark Mark?

On the other hand, having a permanent residence with the Malfoys would allow Harry to discover all that they tried to hide and decide once and for all whether or not they were his true allies; and, as Bellatrix had told him, the Malfoys – or at least Narcissa and Draco – were blood siblings of the infamous Black Family and that was a bonus for Harry as he'd heard that the Blacks were one of the darkest families in history.

Clearing his throat, Harry asked, "And, if I became your adopted son, what would you expect of me?"

"As I said," Narcissa answered, "Nothing that you don't choose to give to us; I don't expect you to be a perfect son or anything like that, Harry: I simply wish to be here to protect you from your enemies and, when you _choose_ to allow it, I'd like to be here to help you as my sister helps you. I may not be your Mother, Harry, but I want to give you an environment where you can actually be a kid and show your emotions: if you're sad, I'll make you smile; if you're angry, I'll find a way to banish that anger. If you want something, I'll give it to you: you don't even have to trust me, Harry: but family _is_ what's most important to a Black."

Closing the book that he had been reading, Harry then asked, "Speaking of that family; let's say I allow you to go ahead with this, what about the Black Family? I mean I'd only be an adopted son, so…"

"There's a ritual," Narcissa interrupted, more than aware of the glint of success that filled Harry's eyes: she had figured that he would want this, so she would give it to him. "It requires the consent of a Lord or representative of a family, as well as a blood exchange between two parties; one being a member of one family and the other being the one inducted into the family. When it's done, it will reveal that you, Harry, are a member of the Black Family by blood adoption and, if you want, I can have Bellatrix be the maternal guardian on _that_ side so that you don't have to weaken yourself so much around her. Of course, as a semi-official son of the Blacks, you would also be a candidate for the title Heir Primus, which would mean that…"

"In the event of the death of the current Lord Black, I'd become Lord Black," Harry finished, a part of him liking this with every new word being spoken, "Especially since the current Lord Black also happens to be persona non grata with the family, isn't that right?"

"Yes," Narcissa answered, "And we would perform the ritual if that is what you wish: however, in legal terms, we'd need to provide documentation that this is official, which is why Lucius and I would like to adopt you."

'All tasks at hand have been completed,' Harry thought, a smirk crossing his face as he nodded once, "All right, Narcissa: your offer intrigues me, so give me time to make my final decision, but, for now, I think it would be a good idea to go ahead with the adoption. However, I want you to know that I'm only doing this so you can blood-adopt me into the Blacks."

"I know."

"I won't be your son or a sweet and innocent member of the family."

"I know."

"I won't act like a pureblood heir or lower myself to formal standards around those who think themselves my superiors."

"I know," Narcissa repeated for the third time, before she put a hand on Harry's shoulder as she explained, "I don't want you to pretend to be someone you're not: I want you to be you, Harry James Potter, soon to be Harry James Potter-Black and, I give you my word that once the adoption's done, I'll find a way to make you Heir Primus: everything we Blacks have will belong to you…my little Lord."

"And I shall not forget this, Narcissa," Harry told her, rising from his seat as he added, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go and pick out my new room and get ready to go back to Hogwarts."

"What about the ceremony tonight?"

"You can perform it if you want," Harry told her, before he looked her dead in the eyes, the sharp, snake-like glare of those green eyes making Narcissa's heart stop as he finished, "But I'm not going to be there."

Then, with a turn on his heel, Harry left the library, his cloak billowing behind him in a fashion that would make Severus jealous…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Standing on the front porch of Malfoy Manor the next morning, Harry straightened his robe and, looking to Bellatrix, he told her, "I'll see you at Christmas and then we can work on the adoption."

"I'm glad you're thinking of accepting, Harry," Bellatrix told him, before she explained, "I know that you're doing this so that you have the means to learn more about your powers and that's okay: you deserve to remain the Alpha Male around here and I can't wait to see how this changes what lies ahead."

"I'll miss you too, Bella," Harry told her, recalling the soft sound of piano music that he'd heard from outside his new room the night before; Lucius had sent word saying that the Samhain celebrations had been cancelled, but that hadn't stopped Bellatrix using a piano to help calm the nerves and emotional storm within Harry.

The sound had helped him settle off to sleep and, as a reminder of the beautiful music, Bellatrix and Narcissa had placed it into a Dreamweaver Crystal and set it on a chain that was around Harry's neck.

"Keep up the good work in Slytherin, Harry," Lucius remarked, both he and Draco appearing from inside the Manor, the _former_ Ice Prince standing by his soon-to-be new blood-brother and Lord as his Father spoke, "And don't forget that I will listen if you need to contact me; now, do you have the tomes that you found in our library?"

"The two on Elemental Magic, the one on Occlumency and Legilimency and the final book on concealing the Dark Essence that comes from using the Dark Arts; yes I have them," Harry finished, inclining his head to Lucius as he added, "And thank you for allowing me to take them from your home, Lucius."

"Now, Harry," Lucius retorted, "It'll soon be your home as well; before you go, I'd also like to warn you of something."

"Be wary of Dumbledore."

"Not just that."

"Don't let anyone, no matter what their age, think themselves my better in Slytherin or any House."

"Not only that, but something else," Lucius added, looking to the boy that would soon join his family as he explained, "As you may or may not know, Harry; Gringotts was broken into over the summer, but the item in question was already taken: I have a vague suspicion that it may be at Hogwarts and, like it or not, there's a chance that someone is after it."

He didn't need to say whom he suspected was after this item as the mention of it had Harry's eyes becoming cold and hard; knowing that it was better to continue, Lucius did so, "What I'd like to warn you about is that this person could be an apostle of…You-Know-Who and, also more than likely, it was by Dumbledore's hand that this thing was placed inside Hogwarts. More than likely, he did this to try and sway you into being the one to confront this follower and be the hero; just keep your eyes open."

"I will," Harry answered, before he adopted his firm expression as he added, "But, at the same time, I'd like to know what this…thing could be; do you think you could discover that for me, Lucius?"

"I shall do my best," Lucius replied, a part of him feeling a little unnerved at the thought of this boy holding an item or treasure that the Dark Lord himself was after. Then again, he had to remember that the Dark Lord wasn't going to be the Dark Lord for much longer; nor was this boy a boy for much longer.

Narcissa, seeing that everyone was done with what they needed to say, stepped forwards now and, taking both boys' arms, she nodded once to her sister before she Apparated away.

Leaving behind a concerned Lucius Malfoy and a Bellatrix Lestrange that, for a moment, held a smile similar to her old maniacal ways as she considered the fun and games that would come to Hogwarts with a new Harry among the snakes.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

There was a sense of dark excitement in the air when Harry and Draco entered the Slytherin Common Room, the newly-recognised Slytherin King more than aware of a few heads turning in his direction before, much to his surprise, he noticed his disciple of darkness, Hermione Granger, being congratulated by most of the upper years and first years.

Moving to the chairs that were gathered around the fireplace, Harry ignored the whispers and, instead, he waited patiently for what he considered to be the inevitable.

Sure enough, as the students disbanded, Hermione approached him, Harry once more silencing the area around them as she bowed to him, dropping to her knees as she muttered, "Master; welcome back: are you well?"

"Never mind how I feel, my young disciple," Harry answered her, his voice as cold and hard as ever as he asked, "Would you care to explain why you've suddenly become a figurehead among the Slytherins and why they're treating you as some sort of heroine?"

"Well," Hermione answered, aware of Harry's eyes not meeting hers as she spoke, "Yesterday, we had Charms and, in the midst of it, Weasley insulted me and told me that I was no more welcome among our peers than you were; he then used…that name and told me that I would soon meet the same end as the last…that name…that stood with you. Death!"

"And what was your reaction?" asked Harry, his magic crackling against his skin as he considered the insult not only to him, but to his family; well, soon he would be able to turn that away and then he would make Weasley eat his words.

"I challenged him to meet me in a duel," Hermione explained, her eyes shining as she told her story, "But rather than meet Weasley, I cornered him into a cubicle in the toilets and, just as I was leaving, I saw this _massive_ troll lumber in there; the spiteful git wound up with two broken ribs and a crushed arm before the teachers knew he was in there. He tried to pin it on me, but his own wand showed the sticking charm and petrification jinx that had left him there. When Professor Snape asked the Slytherins, Greengrass and Davis vouched for me and I managed to escape any form of punishment."

"Did you really?" asked Harry, looking down to Hermione as he asked, "And all this was because he used that name on you?"

"And in your direction, Master," Hermione answered, her voice firm as she told him, "Gryffindor or not, your late Mother is the reason that you, our hallowed and powerful Slytherin King, are here today; I wouldn't let him insult your legacy and get away with it. The little bastard didn't even know what hit him when I used his own wand against him."

There was almost a hint of amusement to Hermione's voice as she said this before she lowered her head to her Master as she told him, "You told me to silence those who threaten you and use that name: those who would choose to use it in Slytherin have been silenced and, as added insurance, Derrick told them that if they thought I was bad because Weasley said it, all they had to do was ask Montague and Rosier what you did to them for using the name."

"And that," Harry told her, now looking down at Hermione with a cold, shark-like smile, "Is what makes you perfect for Slytherin, my disciple: that is the lesson that I wanted you to teach to those who thought you to be some weakling."

In that one moment, Harry saw the side to his disciple that he'd wanted to give life to since rescuing her many weeks back: rising from his seat, a hint of a smile touched his lips, making him look like the perfect pureblood speaker as he told her, "Well done, you have officially earned your place in these halls and you've made me proud; you said that you wanted to learn about the darkness and, soon enough…Hermione, you will learn your place and your power."

"Both of which are yours to use as you command them to be, Master," Hermione replied, before Harry dismissed her, lifting the silencing ward around them and allowing his disciple to leave his side.

It wasn't until much later, while she drifted off to sleep within the first-years girl's dormitory that Hermione realised that, in his praise to her, her Master had done something that he'd never really answered her with before.

He'd used her first name…

**Chapter 7 and Harry seems to have given his disciple a just reward for her loyalty, but what does this mean for Slytherin and the plans of the soon-to-be Dark Lord?**

**Also, what will Harry's final decision be in becoming Heir Primus to the darkest family in history? What about when he learns of the location and partial-reason for the current Lord being **_**persona non grata?**_

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Hermione seeks advice from Draco on where to go from here with Harry while the Slytherin King makes his place clear in the pit; plus, Yule approaches and Harry makes a shocking decision, which impacts what happens next on his path to power…particularly when a suspicious gift arrives on Christmas morning…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: Here is where the original draft of Cold Heart ends; all that comes from here is new stuff, so I hope you enjoy the story;**


	8. A Bleak Winter

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**DarkJumper: You'll be waiting a while, but Hermione **_**will**_** be at his side before too long;**

**StormyFireDragon: Not in this story, Storm, especially since Harry **_**is**_** to be adopted into the family anyway;**

**DarkLelouch3221: Nothing so graphic, but their relationship will grow over the time-span I have in mind for them to join together as King and Queen;**

**WhiteElfElder: It's a bit of a twist-and-turn sort of thing, but yeah, you've pretty much hit the nail on the head there;**

**EndlessChains: Thank you for your detailed reviews; I never tire of reading them, especially since they're **_**not**_** the sort of lengthy reviews where someone just whines and nitpicks at every little thing that is wrong;**

**MrGagaSlashLover: Yeah, there's a bit of a calm coming up with the next few chapters, but you know what they say about calm: it comes before the storm…**

**ALSO: Just a reminder: everything you'll see from here on in is new material while the previous chapters were tidied-up reposts of the old version of this story, so…enjoy;**

_Narcissa, seeing that everyone was done with what they needed to say, stepped forwards now and, taking both boys' arms, she nodded once to her sister before she Apparated away._

_Leaving behind a concerned Lucius Malfoy and a Bellatrix Lestrange that, for a moment, held a smile similar to her old maniacal ways as she considered the fun and games that would come to Hogwarts with a new Harry among the snakes._

Chapter 8: The Bleak Winter

After the rise and fall of the events surrounding Samhain, things started to change dramatically within the Slytherin Dormitories;

When he heard how Slytherins had helped their honorary member to settle in and change her attitude to match one of their own while her former dorm-mates had ostracised her, Severus had a word with Professor Flitwick and had Hermione's transfer from Ravenclaw to Slytherin set in stone. In the Eagle's Nest, there were those who actually felt a pang of regret for what they'd done to keep this clearly-gifted witch out of their circle while others were just glad that she was gone.

As for the Snake Pit, they welcomed their new sister-in-sorting with a complimentary party and run-around under the watch of the one force that was slowly becoming the ruler of Slytherin: Harry Potter.

When Draco had returned with Harry and heard what Hermione had done to uphold her honour and that of the soon-to-be Slytherin King, he had spread word through the members of their little clique – namely Blaise, Tracey, Daphne and Derrick – and told them straight: Hermione Granger, and any insults towards her, was off-limits.

She belonged to the King and no-one else and, when he heard that Harry had actually started using Hermione's name, there was a part of Draco that wondered if Harry had found someone his own age to open up to as he did with Bellatrix.

"Don't hold your breath," Harry warned him when he asked him this personally, "I told you, Draco: Granger…Hermione intrigues me and, now that she has proven herself worthy of the emerald trim on her robe, she has also proven herself worthy of that sense of intrigue. Nothing else matters to me but that. And nice work on having the rest of the dorm put on notice to the consequences of crossing me."

"You are the future Slytherin King, Harry," Draco replied, his voice calm as he knew that he should have expected the cold intrigue of the King to be the only reason for his civility with the Muggleborn, "Any who ignore the punishments for committing crimes against the King deserve to have a pitch picked out in the nearest cemetery…because they _don't_ deserve to be one of us."

Harry just scoffed before he returned to his studies, leaving Draco to leave the dorm where he found Hermione standing at the entrance to the boys' corridor that led down to their dormitories. Knowing of her connection to his liege-lord and future brother, Draco gave her a curt nod before he asked, "Something I can help you with, Granger?"

"Actually there is, Malfoy," Hermione replied, indicating a private seating area in the Slytherin Annexe – a private library up a small flight of stairs in the dormitory that was solely for Slytherin uses – where she watched the Malfoy Heir take his seat before she added, "You were just talking to him, weren't you? To our Lord?"

"Look Granger," Draco reasoned, looking to her dark-brown eyes with a hint of resolution in his gaze as he explained, "If he can use your name, then I'm sure that the feeling and privilege is a mutual one: hell, _I_ use his name as do Blaise, Daphne and Tracey. The only one of the group who doesn't is Derrick, but then again, he _does_ fear the ground Harry walks on."

"Name or no name," Hermione replied, her voice now edged by a hint of loyalty as she explained, "I am his disciple in the dark until he dismisses me or I prove myself worthy of ascension: in this manner, I am his apprentice and he is my Master and that is how I address him unless _he_ tells me otherwise."

Draco folded his arms, a look of actual amazement now appearing on his face as he asked her, "You value him that much?"

"I do," Hermione answered, leaning forwards in her own seat before she explained, "He saved me from the mistakes I could have made had those Ravenclaw nimrods kept me in their fold…or not as the case turned out to be: he showed me the lights that shone within the power of darkness and has since taught me how to prove that, when all is said and done, it isn't knowledge that is power, but _power_ that is power. I will follow him to hell and back, I will do what he asks and his enemies shall be mine: when he tells me that I am finally worthy to call myself his ally and not just his apprentice, then I will see him as the rest of you do. Until then, he is my Master and my future King of our House."

With a sly smile, Draco asked, "You see it too?"

"The mantle of Slytherin King goes to the one who holds the most power and the greatest command over the snakes," Hermione explained, shrugging as she added to Draco's stunned looks, "I asked about it to Daphne and she explained it to me: the last King was Tom Marvolo Riddle, but I doubt that our Lord will let that stop him. He already holds sway over two elder years and one who is about to leave our nest, but he won't let anyone stand above him, so yes, Draco, I _do_ see him as the King and, when he takes his throne, then you and I shall be two of the first to bow before him."

Draco was surprised: he'd never have suspected a Muggleborn to have such malice in her or a devotion that, from what he heard from his parents, was almost similar to the days when his Aunt had followed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Hermione didn't just value Harry: she worshipped him and was ready, willing and able to do anything and everything not only to earn her his approval, but keep him on the path that would lead to him becoming the one, true Dark Lord.

'No wonder she intrigues him,' Draco thought as he let his hands rest on his lap, listening to Granger's voice while also taking in her devotion to his brother, 'His path is one that he walks alone and yet he knows that he will need those who are ready to die for him: Hermione is one of these people and, with her mind-set and devotion to him, he can even overlook the fact that she was raised by those who abandoned and tried to destroy him.'

"So…what do you suggest?" asked Hermione, earning a raised eyebrow from Draco, "How do I continue to help him and…what do I do now that I know I am not just his slave anymore? How do I see him? How do I address him?"

"So this is what you wanted to ask me," Draco sighed, leaning forwards in his seat once more as he explained, "In that case, I say that you continue to see him as you do now: let him lead you as we let him and show him respect, but also fear making him angry. Not to the point that you cower every time he looks at you, but let him see that you know he is the one, true leader of the pack around here."

"Bare my throat to the Apex Predator, you mean?" asked Hermione, earning a nod from Draco as she continued, "All right, I can do that: for him and for the goal that we both share, I can do that. But can you help me, Draco? I know you and him have a sort of kinship between you, but I'd just like him to see that, though I've moved up his ladder slightly, I _can_ be someone he can trust even though I'm Muggleborn."

With a thoughtful expression, Draco let a smirk cross his face before he answered, "I think I can figure something out: for now, just be there for him, Hermione Granger. Do not leave his side and do not even _think_ for one minute that he is someone who needs to be human or open up: trust me when I say that's the _last_ thing you want to suggest to him."

"I understand…and I will," Hermione nodded, rising from her seat before she asked, "Say, have you finished Professor Flitwick's theory work on Shrinking Charms yet?"

Here, Draco's smirk turned into a smile as he nodded before he asked, "Why? Is there something you need help with?"

"Well…now that you mention it…"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

As the autumn months vanished and winter started to descend upon Hogwarts, there was an air of excitement meets curiosity in the atmosphere for the students of Hogwarts. Classrooms now had to be warmed against the sudden cold snap that had descended on the Scottish countryside around them and, aside from Severus' lessons where the students were forced to seek solace from their heated cauldrons, the classes were remarkably comfortable.

Naturally, though there were a few outside the Pit who were surprised by it, but the only one truly unaffected by the cold was Harry: he walked without a shiver to his body or a stammer to his voice and, when he walked out amongst the snow drifts that fell around Hogwarts, it was with an open cloak and partially-exposed body. He didn't even pick up on the bout of winter colds that had spread amongst the students: instead, he kept away from sufferers and, if any of them were Slytherins, he sent them _immediately_ to Severus for an instant pick-me-up.

He didn't have time to get sick: not when his power was slowly rising.

In the midst of one of these private wanderings, just before the end of term, Harry found his footsteps taking him up a flight of stairs that, halfway up his ascent, actually annoyed Harry rather than startling him when the stairs moved and dropped him off outside a doorway. With no real care for the mismatched magic of this school, Harry passed through the door and found himself in a wide, spacious corridor, at the end of which there was another door and several suits of armour and blank portraits along the way.

"Either this school has a twisted sense of humour," Harry mused, recognising the corridor as the one that the old fool had warned them against at the start of term, "Or someone _wants_ me to find this since plans for group wanderings are _not_ to my liking. Very well, Captain Ahab, I'll bite."

As he approached the door at the far end of the corridor, a cold smile touched Harry's lips as he realised that he might have actually just made a joke about something.

What a tangled web he had woven since coming to Hogwarts: first associates who were a mix of allies, _possible_ friends and tools; then actually letting a Muggleborn into the fold when Harry had a profound and indomitable hatred for their kind and now he was making sarcastic jokey remarks about going fishing.

Hogwarts was changing him…and though it was probably no bigger than a spark of magic accidentally firing off in rage, there was a part of Harry that didn't mind the changes. Mostly because the majority of them were only fuelling his desires to rule as the new Dark Lord and also mostly because, in a _crazy_ and mostly-wrong way, there was a chance that life with Bellatrix had shown him that he couldn't achieve greatness alone.

He needed pawns, knights, bishops, rooks, a queen and…no wait;

Hold on…

'No,' Harry thought to himself, 'That's chess…and that's the game that Dumblefucker wants me to play with him and Riddle: but if I am to claim the board, then I must first wipe out my biggest opposition…the White Queen. Only then will I be strong enough to take the King.'

Stopping outside the door to the forbidden corridor, Harry lifted his head before he was then aware of a presence behind him: turning on his heel, the young Slytherin saw a pair of beady eyes watching him from within a head and body of mangy fur.

Mrs Norris, Argus Filch's despicable cat, was staring at him and, as she lowered herself down as though ready to pounce, she let out a mew of a growl before she met his gaze.

"Going to report me to your master, are you?" asked Harry, removing his hawthorn wand from his cane – which now _never_ left his side at a recommendation from Lucius – before he added, "Well I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot let a filthy thing like you stop me."

Pointing the wand at the cat, Harry's eyes narrowed before he commanded, "_Compellere Silvestris!_"

A dark grey mist flew from the tip of his wand and seemed to wrap around the head of Mrs Norris, slithering in through her ears and nostrils much like a serpent; as Harry returned his wand to his cane, a sneer escaped him as he whispered, "Now let's see if this worked: Mrs Norris, come to me!"

There was a second's passing of awkwardness and tension before the cat straightened up and, like she had suddenly become one of her nobler ancestors, she prowled to Harry's side, purring contentedly as she felt his fingers trail across her fur.

"Good girl," Hadrian hissed softly, though there was a _small_ note of pride in his voice as he told her, "Now, by the spell I have on you, I have one order: anything else is yours to do as you wish, but you shall _never_ alert your Squib master of my actions or place. If we meet in the corridor, you will ignore me as though I am little more than a shadow on your vision. You will also cease and desist in keeping an eye on the Slytherins and their actions, but feel free to terrorise the Gryffindors, okay, my sweet?"

Mrs Norris meowed in response before she turned and, with a rather sleek flick of her tail, she vanished from the corridor, her disappearance bringing a small pureblood-worthy smile to Harry's face as he whispered, "Animal Compulsion Charms: thank you, Lucius."

Then, rising from his position, the young Slytherin turned to face the door before he drew his wand again and, pointing it at the door, he muttered, "Okay, what have you got for me now then, dear lady?"

Unlocking the door, Harry stepped into what seemed to be a pitch-black room, though there was a hint of warmth to it that was both welcoming and, at the same time, threatening.

Lifting his eyes to the roof of the room, Harry raised one eyebrow before he whispered, "Oh you senile old fool: do you really think me so suicidal?"

Taking a step back, the young Slytherin left the room, making sure to cast a small, unnoticeable alert charm on the door that Bellatrix had taught him, before he turned and made his way back to the dormitories, a part of him questioning the sanity of his wannabe manipulator.

Another part of him questioning whether this had something to do with Lucius' guess about a certain someone being here at Hogwarts;

And then there was the third part: the tiny part of him that was still a boy inside; this part of him asked a question that, one way or another, Harry vowed to find out the answer to:

'What in the name of the Dark Witch is a bloody _Cerberus_ doing in a school full of kids?'

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

"And here I was actually thinking you weren't serious."

"Has being around me taught you nothing, Draco?" asked Harry as he watched his dorm mate and future brother packing the last of his things for the Christmas holidays, "If I _say_ I'm going to do something, or _not_ going to do something as the case may be, then I mean it. Besides, being here gives me an advantage over the old fool that he won't see coming."

"What advantage?" asked Draco, watching as Harry examined the page of the book he was reading, his eyes filled with a glint of interest as he answered Draco's question.

"The best way to strike at your enemy is to take them down from the inside," Harry reasoned, turning the page before he added, "Besides, I didn't much fancy joining you for Samhain Celebrations, so do you _really_ think I want to be put on show like some sort of dressage horse at your Father's Yule Ball?"

"It's more of a soiree, actually," Draco replied, but Harry said nothing as he continued reading through his book. Heaving a sigh, Draco went for a place that he hadn't wanted to hit, "You know Aunt Bella's not going to like it."

As he'd expected, a snap of cold magic lashed out from Harry's body, cracking against Draco's own bodily warmth and sending it plummeting, making Draco flinch and stagger slightly before he added, "Sorry, but she was looking forwards to seeing you again and, before you go off on one, I get it, all right? You're not the family type, but when Mother and Father adopt you, you're going to have to make an effort to appear as familial as you can be."

"No," Harry replied, now lifting his eyes to Draco as he added, "I won't: Narcissa and I talked about that when she offered me the adoption; I don't have to be anything that I don't want to be. All this adoption will do is give me the tools to forge the future that I desire: _that's it!_"

Draco shivered again as he closed his trunk before a sigh escaped him as he asked, "You going to be okay, though? I mean even Granger's going home for the holidays as are the majority of Slytherin. Though I think that number only doubled when Derrick and Montague told others you were staying."

"Is it my fault that Slytherin fears me?" asked Harry, then meeting Draco's gaze once more as he added, "But since you're going to be with them, Draco, you can make an effort to remind them of what's at stake. I won't wait to claim my throne, you know this: the time is coming where decisions will need to be made and, for their sakes, I hope our Housemates make the right choice."

'So do I,' Draco thought to himself before he asked again, "But _are_ you going to be okay? I mean, no offence meant, Harry, but there are still annoyances here at Hogwarts over the holiday: that Gryffindor idiot Weasley still won't get the hint _and_ he's staying. Then there's the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs: in fact, the only Slytherin aside from you who's staying is…"

"Me," replied a thick voice, making both boys look up: Adrian Rosier, the first Slytherin that Harry had really demonstrated his power against, was standing in the doorway, a little shaky in appearance as he shared a glance with Harry before he added to Draco, "And you have nothing to fear, Malfoy: I am still Slytherin and I will let nothing trouble him. You'd better make a move, though: the train's leaving in forty minutes."

Draco nodded before he left the dorm, leaving Harry with Adrian, the latter still shaking slightly while Harry just sniffed before he asked, "Yes? Can I help you, my _pet?_"

Adrian flinched at the name that Harry had used on only a few occasions when they'd met: ever since being taught about the power of the future Slytherin King, Adrian had offered his services to assist the young man in taming and controlling the power of the Dark Arts. When Harry had asked why he should bother wasting time with bait like him, Adrian had returned fire by saying that, in challenging Harry to a magical situation as they had foolishly done so, it was the equivalent of a wizard's duel and, in sparing the boy's life, Harry now had Adrian's fealty and eternal loyalty.

He'd then revealed that, contrary to Harry's thoughts about the boy, he wasn't a seventh-year, but a fifth who'd repeated his last year along with Marcus Flint, but Flint had been caught in a…compromising position and suspended, making Rosier the new Prefect. What this meant, as Harry asked him why he should care, Adrian knew that he shouldn't, but his repeated year _did_ mean he'd be around for a little while longer to aid the King in his learning and the growth of his power.

Now, though only Hermione and Derrick knew it, Adrian was another member of Harry's _potentials_, though for now, he was nothing more than Harry's vassal and pet, able to move and act only with his lord's wishes and usable only for his skills in the Dark Arts…well, that and being as sneaky and subtle as a serpent.

As though displaying this submission to Harry, Adrian gulped before he bowed as he explained, "I…I did as you…you asked, my Lord and looked into the how and why a…a Cerberus would be here…and I think I have…I have the answer."

"Oh?" asked Harry, now looking up from the book in his lap as he asked, "And what reason is that?"

"Five months ago," Adrian explained, "There was an attempted break-in at Gringotts and, though the thief didn't get away with what he was after, there were sources inside Gringotts who said that the target in question had already been emptied out earlier that day."

"So someone anticipated a movement and took steps to ensure its safety," Harry muttered, now putting a finger to his lips before he asked, "What was the item?"

"No-one knows and the goblins aren't saying anything," Adrian replied, keeping his distance from the dark wizard in front of him as he added, "But if someone _did_ take it freely beforehand, then…wouldn't it make sense that…it's here at Hogwarts?"

"Perhaps," Harry nodded, then looking up to the fifth-year as he asked, "What about the Cerberus? Did you find anything out about where he came from?"

"No," answered Adrian, earning a sigh from his lord that was tinged with a growl, "B-But I d-d-did overhear something in the library about W-Weasley and his band of n-n-no-talents talking about something called Fluffy. M-maybe it was that?"

"Maybe," Harry agreed, setting his book aside before he added, "It seems further investigations are warranted, but the question now, Adrian, is who would risk everything to come for a treasure here at Hogwarts? And, more importantly, who are they working through or with?"

"C-could it be a Professor?" asked Adrian.

This had Harry closing his eyes before he gave a hum of interest and, clicking his tongue once, he whispered, "Could be…guess I'm going to have to find out whom…and why."

"How…how may I assist you, my Lord?" asked Adrian, watching as Harry opened his eyes and, rising from his seat, the young Slytherin approached his vassal before he put a hand on the boy's shoulder, forcing Adrian back to his knees, his eyes wide with terror, "Please…I served you…I helped…please don't…I…I won't…"

"Never forget," Harry replied, his voice like Death itself was speaking as he told the older boy, "You may think yourself useful, but you act how I wish, when I wish and by no other means do you move without my permission. You are nothing more than my pawn and I move you in whatever direction I desire."

"Yes, my Lord," Adrian replied, bowing his head to the dark wizard.

"Say it!"

"I am your pawn…"

"And what does your life mean to me?"

Meeting his lord's gaze, Adrian grew less frightened and more obediently-loyal as he answered Harry, "Nothing."

"Good answer," Harry replied, smiling with a mix of pride and dominance as he considered the next step he would need to take…

**Chapter 8 and Harry has met Fluffy, discovered the Gringotts theft and now seeks a thief and a fool: what will happen when he meets them?**

**Plus, will the acquisition of another higher year have any effect on Harry's rule as Slytherin King?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: It's Christmas Morning, but a suspicious gift has Harry with questions about his past and the reason for the gift; plus, a meeting with a mirror reveals the **_**heart's desire**_** of the Slytherin King and there's a split POV to the Malfoys' Ball as Draco talks with the other Slytherins about their King…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: I changed Rosier's age and backstory to give Harry another elder year whom he will have as a close guard to his rule; also, Hermione's devotion to him **_**is**_** Bella-to-Tom-like, but she's not as insane as our favourite Death Eater…not yet, anyway; she just wants Harry to succeed in his rule of the Dark and Slytherin…**

**OC SPELL:**

_**Compellere Silvestris: **_**The Animal Compulsion Charm: Grants the ability to warp the mind of any beast to the commands of the caster;**


	9. Dela Ever Eriseds Gni Ka

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **Here we go then: this is the re-done version of my Cold Heart, Dark Soul story: this time, the story will _not_ be to the challenge specs that it once was – though for those who are curious, I'll keep the challenge details on as a reminder of the original – and, this time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version;

Take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will **_**not**_** be exactly the same…**

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**Dark Lelouch3221: That would be funny, wouldn't it?**

**Mandy7: One of the ones he trusts;**

**StormyFireDragon: She can't really do anything more until he returns to the Manor, Storm: people may recognise her style if they saw it;**

**WhiteElfElder: Only if they make him hurt them;**

**EndlessChains: As the story progresses, I hope you have your questions answered;**

_Lifting his eyes to the roof of the room, Harry raised one eyebrow before he whispered, "Oh you senile old fool: do you really think me so suicidal?"_

_Taking a step back, the young Slytherin left the room, making sure to cast a small, unnoticeable alert charm on the door that Bellatrix had taught him, before he turned and made his way back to the dormitories, a part of him questioning the sanity of his wannabe manipulator._

'_What in the name of the Dark Witch is a bloody Cerberus doing in a school full of kids?'_

Chapter 9: Dela Ever Eriseds Gni Ka

Snow lay thick on the grounds and a cold frost gripped the school's windows and halls as Hogwarts awoke to the feel of Christmas Morning;

In the other three dorms, the few students who had stayed behind for the holidays attacked their presents with delight and awed looks in their eyes; however, down in the Slytherin Common Room, Harry sat alone in front of the roaring Slytherin fireplace, the green flames from the fireplace warming him against the cold while he glanced to the medium-sized pile of gifts from his friends and allies.

Without the majority of the House around, Harry managed to enjoy a feeling of calm silence and solitude that he had missed since his days in the orphanage. Christmas morning there meant gifts from one kid to another while Harry, partially out of the fear and hatred that the others felt for him, was only given gifts by Bellatrix/Mariah and little else.

For him, Christmas wasn't really a time of gifts and celebration: it was a time of commemoration of the now-passed magical event otherwise known as the Winter Solstice. A time when the world believed themselves to be halfway out of the dark and able to head back into the light once again as the days grew steadily longer and the weather considerably warmer.

They had no idea how wrong they were;

The Winter Solstice, as Harry had learned personally from Bellatrix, wasn't a time to celebrate being able to step out of the dark, but a means to focus on one's own dark prowess and remember that, no matter how strong the light, darkness must_ always_ follow, even if only for a short while.

So, while Harry felt a _minor_ amount of graciousness and even amusement at the sight of gifts from his friends and allies, he didn't attack them with a childish whim of excitement. Instead, he calmly reached out and, checking each one carefully, he opened them with little more caring for them as though they were deliveries through the everyday mail.

His first gift was from Lucius and Narcissa and, when Harry opened it, he found a set of new dress robes in deepest black with the Slytherin Crest and, to his surprise, a second crest depicting a raven's head with a sword beneath it. Why this surprised him was because he knew it from Bellatrix's talks about herself to be the crest of the House of Black, Bellatrix's birth house.

'Seems like they're serious about me becoming their son,' Harry thought to himself, allowing himself a smirk of amusement before he added, 'As long as they remember why I'm even thinking about this, I don't much care how they symbolise my new life.'

The next gifts were a little _less_ conspicuous and seemed to come from Harry's slowly-building court: here, they seemed to have banded together and bought him a set of guidebooks to the Dark Arts and a copy of the book Lucius had let Harry take away from the home on masking his power's dark essence. There was also what looked like a new Dreamweaver Crystal from Blaise containing a soft, eerie, but comforting violin sonata that sounded like something from Tchaikovsky.

Next, there was a whole selection of magical sweets and treats from Derrick while Adrian Rosier had also provided Harry a gift in the form of a single black-gold-forged bracelet, the links of the chain intertwining like serpents coiling around one another. When Harry let his magic touch the bracelet, he was surprised to find a whole cavalcade of protective and shielding spells that seemed to work on not only Harry's physical defence, but his mental ones as well.

"Impressive, my pet," he whispered, fixing the bracelet onto his wrist while the magic within surged through him like a wave of intense heat, bringing a glow to Harry's cold eyes as he turned to his next gift.

This one was also from a vassal of his: Hermione, to be precise: when Harry opened this gift, he found a set of Muggle clothes that looked like they'd been adjusted with magical environment-protection charms.

Accompanying this set of clothes, there was also a book that Harry was surprised to read was on the history and guide to the power of Parseltongue.

Accompanying this rather pricey gift was a note:

_I have had this in my possession since you turned me, my Lord; I had originally bought it to see about this other skill, but now I know that only a true Slytherin Heir and Lord deserves to read the information held within. As for the clothes, I had them purchased with Draco's help to give you a more glorious, noble appearance in the Muggle world where robes and cloaks reveal our differences._

_I thank you for giving me the chance to prove myself;_

_I am forever in your debt;_

_Your Slytherin warrior maiden;_

_Hermione Granger_

"I never thought I'd actually mean the words," Harry muttered as he set the gift aside, "But thanks Granger…your gift is thoughtful…and inspired."

With that, Harry turned to the last two of his gifts: the first seemed to be rather random as it was simply an envelope, inside of which there was a note and what looked like a single gold signet ring.

_Harry,_

_I may not have earned the right to approach you directly, so consider this our first true meeting;_

_Let this ring be my sign of fealty to you, though I await your decision to make it official._

_You may not know it, but you're not the only one who seeks to escape the lies and falsehoods and, though I have felt your power and your fury, my desire is simply to stand at your side…no matter which side of magic you're on._

_Light Master or Dark Lord: it doesn't matter to me._

_My soul, my wand, my service now belongs to you, Slytherin King;_

_A friend_

With a raise of his eyebrow, Harry checked the style of the writing: it seemed to be formal with a hint of a shaky hand, though that was probably because of whoever had written this letter being frightened by Harry's reaction.

The only question was: who _had_ written it?

Putting the letter aside for now, the dark Slytherin turned his attention to the last gift: it was a soft, rather large bundle that, as he lifted it, had Harry's eyes glowing as a warning sense of magic passed through him. Tapping into his wandless power, Harry untied the bundle and let it fall, revealing a rather beautiful-looking silvery cloak that seemed to show both itself and the world behind it like looking through a watery mirror.

Accompanying this cloak, Harry saw a letter that _really_ got his attention:

_Your Father left this in my possession before he died; it is time that it was returned to you;_

_Use it well_

"My Father…" Harry whispered, feeling a part of him that he'd thought long-since dead grow warm in him: however, as though this mere thought and split-second of weakness was enough to raise his ire again, he soon let go of it and crushed it beneath his dark exterior as he hissed, "Only one person would do this: Severus fears and respects me, Draco is soon to be my brother and Bellatrix was a Dark Witch, so she wouldn't even talk with my Father. That leaves one man: Albus Dumbledore!"

Narrowing his eyes, a smile of success touched Harry's lips as he saw the letter accompanying the cloak burst into flames and disintegrate into nothingness; at the same time, the young Slytherin took some of the wrappings from his other gifts and wrapped them around the cloak, stopping whatever magic had been cast on the item from touching him again.

With that done, Harry drew his wand and sent his things to his room before he turned and, leaving through the entrance to the Slytherin Dormitory, he turned once and made his way down the corridor, coming to a stop outside Severus' office.

Lifting his hand, Harry knocked once before the door opened, revealing his Head of House, "Harry? What's wrong?"

"As much as it pains me to admit it, Severus," Harry answered coldly, "I need your help."

Opening the door all the way to his office, Severus watched as Harry entered and set the wrapped bundle down on his desk, his eyes glowing with signs of rage that, from his many encounters with the boy and his Slytherins' talks about his power, Severus knew to mean one thing:

Harry was _pissed_!

"What is it?"

Turning to face his Head of House, Harry indicated the bundle as he explained, "Dumbledore is trying to trap me within the weaknesses I had as a child: he's _anonymously_ sent me this…a cloak of some sort that once belonged to my Father. However, as soon as I touched the smallest corner of its material, my magic reacted to several powerful charms that had been cast upon it. Since even my power can't truly remove these enchantments, I need your help to remove them for me: either that or send it to Lucius and have him take care of it."

Severus had been surprised enough when he heard that the cloak had belonged to James Potter: if he remembered right, the man did indeed have a special cloak that had been passed down the family for generations. It certainly explained how he'd gotten around the school so easily and so well if it was what Severus thought it was; however, at the mention of someone casting enchantments on it that were clearly keyed to Harry, Severus let his smugness at his discovery fade.

Drawing his wand, the Slytherin Head cast several diagnostic spells on the cloak, which Harry had now unfurled wandlessly while explaining his point to the man, his eyes narrowing as his own magic identified four different types of spell: compulsion, mind-altering, tracking and emotional.

"I can look into this for you, Harry," Severus told his student, knowing full well that he couldn't really do anything to deny Harry: not when he had Severus' life by the throat thanks to everything the man had learned and found out about him. "Until I can be sure of the charms on the cloak being removed, I ask your permission to keep it here and let no-one but you or I see it and handle it."

"I can do that," Harry replied, then turning to his Head of House before he added, "I may not be able to read your mind, Severus, but I can see and hear that you recognise this cloak: for whatever reasons, I hope you don't forget about our little talk concerning your way of comparing me to my Father."

"No, I won't," Severus agreed, already packing the cloak away while he added, "For what it's worth though, I want you to know that those thoughts have well and truly died out: I'm guessing you gave Lucius permission to share the talk you had with his wife about adopting you?"

"Yes."

"Then know that, like the Malfoys, I too am your ally in the days ahead," Severus told him, turning to face Harry before he lowered his voice as he added, "And if the desire you have and they seem to want you to claim comes true, then also know that I will be one of the first to bow at your feet. I have come too far past the point of no return to do otherwise: so know that you can trust me, Harry Potter. Day or night, whatever your problems or concerns, I will listen and help you where I can: plus, if you need any further help taming your elemental magic, then I can be of assistance there too."

"Then I only hope that your word is as strong as your conviction, Severus," Harry told him, giving the man a curt nod before he added, "I'll see you at the feast then…Professor."

Severus just nodded while he watched Harry leave his office, the feeling of the cold and dark lingering around the room despite the headway that Severus was making with his young student.

But then again, Rome wasn't built in a day and, if it meant undoing the mistakes of his own past, then Severus would wait a thousand nights and more to earn Harry's full trust…

Much like Bellatrix had done for him, Severus now sought to nurture the power in the boy and, secretly, though none of them had said anything, Severus also foresaw the coming year.

The day when the entire house of Slytherin would bow down to the King…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Two days after the Christmas surprises and suspicions began to draw themselves into Harry's mind, the young Slytherin found himself walking the narrow stacks of the library, looking for any information on charms and how to dispel them. He knew that it was a long shot: after all, Hogwarts' library wasn't known for its complete magical arsenal guides; instead, they only saw fit to stock the kind of things that certain people – like an old goat and his band of little sheep – deemed _right_ to let the students learn.

If anything beyond that was made available to the students, it was only through the means of the Restricted Section and, to get in there, Harry needed to either retrieve the cloak from Severus or get a letter of permission from a staff member, which would alert Dumbledore to his wanderings and wishes.

Neither plan seemed to fit Harry's wishes, so he was left waiting…waiting and searching and coming up empty.

As the end of the day came around, Harry let a sigh escape him as he ran his hand through his dark hair before he turned and made his way out of the library, a scoff of amusement escaping him as he wandered.

'Of course you weren't going to find anything,' he thought to himself, his steps not really following a path, but wandering aimlessly as he considered what had just happened. 'Dumbledore clearly thinks he can fool me, just like he did when he tried to place those charms on my wand: however, because my wand was tied directly to my magic, it made it easier to dispel with little more than my will. However, this Cloak that he _says_ was given to him by my Father…no, this one needs proper dispelling magic and, for now, that's beyond my skill…for now.'

As he turned off the corridor, Harry suddenly stopped as something caught his eye out of the corner of his vision: a door, slightly ajar, revealed what looked like a golden-framed item beyond the doorway. Doubling back for now, the young Slytherin looked around, a part of him slightly wary about the fact that something either dangerous or richly-decorated and therefore pricey was just standing there.

Finding no signs of deception or reason for continued alertness, Harry stepped into the room, casting a small alert charm behind him just in case anyone else decided to play detective.

It seemed to be little more than a small classroom and yet, as he looked around, Harry once again noticed the golden-framed item, but this time, he could see it for what it truly was: a mirror.

It seemed to fill the space of the room almost completely from floor to ceiling, its reflective surface held within an ornate decorative frame that, across the top of the frame, had words engraved into it.

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi__._

"What?" asked Harry, narrowing his eyes at the writing before a smirk crossed his face, "Backwards writing: I show not your face, but your heart's desire…what would something like this be doing in a school?"

'Then again,' a small part of his mind argued, 'What are things like a forbidden corridor and a Cerberus doing in a school? It's almost like someone _wants_ a foolhardy individual to investigate.'

Shaking off his thoughts for now, the smirk on Harry's face turned into an amused chuckle before he muttered, "All right Dumbledore…just this once, I'll play your game."

Taking a step towards the mirror, Harry stared deep into the eyes of his reflective self before he told himself, "Well, come on then you beautiful piece of magical creation: show _me_ my heart's desire."

For a moment, there was nothing but Harry's reflection in the mirror before a thick blackness seemed to consume the mirror and, as Harry watched, the image in the mirror changed to reveal something that was both interesting and amusing to the Dark Prodigy.

For there, in the mirror's reflection, was an image of a man with dark hair and green eyes seated upon a rather intimidating-looking black throne, his body swathed in robes of power and darkness while, to Harry's amusement and curiosity, his left hand seemed to have been replaced by a metallic appendage, the tips of his fingers like claws on the arm of the throne.

But it wasn't that which made Harry laugh at the sight: true, the sight of what was clearly his future self with a metallic claw-like hand and darkness flourishing around him made him feel a _little_ unnerved and even curious as to what could possibly lead him to his fate.

However, what it was that made Harry laugh was the sight of a slightly-obscured figure sitting on a smaller throne by older-Harry's side, the hand of this second figure linked with elder-Harry's while the other hand was massaging a growing bump on the second figure's stomach.

"A bride," Harry whispered, shaking his head before he added, "And an heir…the very thing that any _true_ Dark Lord would wish…and yet clearly so very long a time from now."

Meeting the eyes of his older self, Harry sniggered before he told him, "Because I'm not in the mood for love or relationships when power is all that I need: nice try, but this big fish has just become the one that got away."

Then, with a sniff, Harry turned and made his way out of the classroom, unaware of the darkness gathering around the elder him, before the lips of the image moved rather soundlessly, his green eyes shining much like Harry's whenever he was determined or focused;

'_All in good time, little King…all in good time…_'

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

While Harry was being introduced to the mysteries and amused possibilities of his own future, a different kind of encounter was going down within the walls of Malfoy Manor. While the adults drank and socialised on the latest news across the world of purebloods and their commands over the world of magic, up in Draco's room, the blonde-haired Slytherin was sat with Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Tracey, Derrick, Montague and several of his other classmates, each of them knowing full well why they were here.

Once everyone was in the room, including Hermione – whose presence at the party had surprised the adults before Lucius said that she was his honoured guest – Draco rose from his seat and, moving to the front of the room, he cleared his throat before he asked, "Okay, so I assume that I don't need to explain why we're here?"

"Does it have something to do with a Slytherin we know and fear?" asked Marcus Jugson, his eyes filled with a hint of remorse at the words: he himself had never felt Harry's ire, but the descriptions from his dorm-mates was enough to settle his fears and leave him thankful for that.

"Yes it does," Draco answered, looking to Hermione, who was sat at the front of the group before he continued, "And about the effect he's had on us since his sorting: first, bringing Hermione into our ranks and showing even our elder years that he's no pushover."

"He's anything but," gasped Graham Montague, looking over to Derrick with a hint of fear in his eyes, "You're the only one who escaped his wrath, Perry, but you didn't escape him, did you?"

"I couldn't even if I tried," Perry, or Peregrine to give him his full name, Derrick replied, his voice wavering with his own fear as he explained, "After he taught you and Adrian a lesson about respect, he spared me, but only for the sake of showing me where my place was, which is beneath him in the hierarchy. He is the one I answer to now, as per the terms of a mercy-debt surrounding our battle in the corridor."

"And he's done more since then too," added Cassandra Moon, a lean, wiry sixth-year whom had heard about the battle and delivered the news to Professor Snape, "Not only is he strong, but he's so cold and so dangerous that I pity anyone who still thinks of him as the Boy-Who-Lived."

"You mean the Gryffindors?" asked Draco, earning a nod from the sixth year before he added, "Not very often I actually admit it, but I share your fears for them. Weasley is still a thorn in Harry's side, but for now, he seems to be content in leaving little reminders of what happens when you cross swords with Harry Potter."

"You wind up getting impaled," Hermione added, earning a shudder from the group before she asked, "So what does that have to do with you calling us all here, Draco?"

"Because it's time we face facts," Draco reasoned, now speaking clearly and as calmly as he could as he explained, "In recent weeks, Harry's become darker than any other first-year and more than any other witch or wizard: he's top of the class in _every_ lesson and, where he's not, he has the means to research his way to the top. Then there's his cold demeanour and his disregard for the old ways of Slytherin: I know this may sound scary, even terrifying coming from someone like me, but…I think it's time we accept it: Harry Potter is now to become the Slytherin King!"

There were a few gasps from the students while Blaise now rose before he asked, "Is this because he made you bleed and scream like some Squib, Draco?"

"No," Draco answered, "But that's a good enough reason, Blaise: he can use the Dark Arts…no, he _has_ used the Dark Arts and not shed a tear: he also seems to be immune to the consumptive powers of the Dark Arts and, instead of weakening him mentally or spiritually, they only seem to harden his resolve. No-one, not since the days of…of Tom Riddle and before has been able to do that: furthermore, we all know that Harry is the way forward for us: such is the Old Cycle…the Fallen and the Risen. Riddle, or as we know him these days, _Voldemort_ is the Fallen and Harry, as his vanquisher and conquered successor, is the Risen: like it or not, you guys, I suspect that Harry has plans to become the new Dark Lord and, as his friend and future brother more than anything else, but as things stand, I say it's better to stand by his side than in his way."

"What do we do until then?" asked Andreas McKnight, a rather springy-looking second-year whom had also noticed the way that Harry carried himself, "I mean, if we accept Harry Potter as our King, then he'll have to build a Court and it's no secret that each and every one of the last court members became the Inner Circle that people know and fear today: even your Father, Draco."

"Not to mention Aunt Bella too," Draco nodded, now looking to the other first-years as he explained, "But this is exactly my point: you've seen him spend time with Blaise, Hermione, Daphne and myself. Well, I suppose this makes us the first members of his Court and, personally, I consider it both an honour and privilege to be the first chosen by him. As for what we do in the meantime, we do everything we can to keep the Light off his back, _especially_ Dumbledore and, believe me when I say that none of you had better even think of using that cuss word for Muggle borns anymore. Harry could have _killed_ Rosier and Montague and Derrick for using it and I have no doubts in my mind that he would have done, so don't think that your loyalty to him will allow you to get away with it."

A heavy wave of shivers passed around the group before Hermione now rose from her seat and, standing by Draco, she asked, "So…are we in agreement?"

There were a few murmurs of yes and agreements before Draco exclaimed, "In that case, there's only one thing to say: Long Live the King!"

"Long Live the King!" Hermione repeated, the cry soon taken up by each member of the student body in front of them as the Slytherins made their choices clear. On that day, the House of Slytherin chose not their Ministry-working parents or the spirit of Lord Voldemort, but a darker, more vicious evil as their lord and master.

It was on that day that Harry Potter unofficially became the Slytherin King…

**Chapter 9 and Slytherin has made its choice: now the reign of the Slytherin King can begin, but how will Harry react to the news?**

**Also, what could the magic of the mirror have meant by showing Harry such a different future to the dark lord in training we see him as now?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Slytherins return and stake their claims to their place with the Slytherin King; plus, Harry chooses his court and asks a favour of his first disciple; also, as the year continues, Harry begins to question more of his power and the future he witnessed in the mirror…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: So there it is: this one actually took some thought, but I think I managed it okay: I hope you all liked how I had Draco guide the Slytherins to their choice and the description of our King's dream;**

**AN 2: Do you like what I did with the title? Backwards, it reads: A King's Desire Revealed; appropriate, no?**

**AN 3: Also, if you haven't done so already, cast your vote for this summer's big story to be posted; I'm leaving the poll open until the end of the month, so make your choice…**


	10. Court Is In Session

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**Shadow Dragon3221: Well, without giving **_**too**_** much away, let's just say that 3****rd**** year has something to do with it;**

**Lunaris-wind: Don't worry, he'll start to recognise those feelings as the next year unfolds with a canon point being the turning point;**

**EndlessChains: Time for the King to begin on his path to becoming the one with real power;**

**StormyFireDragon: I confess, Storm that certain point is some ways away yet;**

**WhiteElfElder: Maybe, but times change and, as things may seem to show, so too does our Dark King;**

**T4: As a favourite song of mine says: 'Bow down to the…bow down to the King!'**

"_A bride," Harry whispered, shaking his head before he added, "And an heir…the very thing that any true Dark Lord would wish…and yet clearly so very long a time from now."_

_Meeting the eyes of his older self, Harry sniggered before he told him, "Because I'm not in the mood for love or relationships when power is all that I need: nice try, but this big fish has just become the one that got away."_

_Then, with a sniff, Harry turned and made his way out of the classroom, unaware of the darkness gathering around the elder him, before the lips of the image moved rather soundlessly, his green eyes shining much like Harry's whenever he was determined or focused;_

'_All in good time, little King…all in good time…'_

Chapter 10: Court Is In Session

The winter chill that had gripped Hogwarts seemed to last right up until the day when the rest of the students returned to Hogwarts, some of them dreading or wondering about up-and-coming lessons while others wondered about friends they hadn't seen all summer and other such concerns of normal kids and teens.

However, in amongst the wide-range of emotions and thoughts surrounding the first day back, there was one group who were solely focused on their objective: the Slytherin students, including one Hermione Jane Granger, moved from the throng of students that walked into the Entrance Hall and, moving with a swiftness and practice that was more like a military drill team, they each made their way down to the dungeons where Marcus Jugson spoke the new password and entered the dorm flanked by his dorm-mates.

Once inside, the air of the Slytherins changed completely; as one House, they stopped and looked around, though their search didn't take too long as Draco caught sight of the figure that they searched for.

Harry James Potter, the one and only _true_ Dark Lord of the new age, was lying cross-ways on a black leather sofa, his head resting in the lap of Adrian Rosier, the fifth-year Prefect putting a finger to his lips as he saw them, "How was your holiday?"

"Eventful…and revealing," answered Perry, his voice edged by a hint of fear as he asked, "What…what's been going on here?"

"He's been up all night studying," Rosier explained, looking down at the seemingly-innocent young man resting his head, "You'd have to have a _serious_ death wish to wake him now. What are you all doing? Moving through the school like men and women on a mission."

"We _are_," Hermione replied, her voice edged by its own determination as she pushed through the others and, with Draco by her side, she told Adrian, "If he is resting, then we can wait, but we wait _here._"

Then, to Adrian's surprise, Hermione dropped down onto her knees, her head lowered as she submitted to the dark-haired being in front of her. At the same time, Draco, Marcus, Perry, Cassandra, Graham and indeed every single one of the green-clad students went to their knees, each one of them kneeling to the being before them.

"What are you _doing?_" hissed Adrian.

"Making a choice," answered Graham, watching as Harry's brow furrowed in discomfort before the elder boy added, "Now quiet Adrian, the King is trying to rest."

"The…King?" asked Adrian, looking to Harry himself before he looked back to the others as he asked, "Who chose him?"

"We all did," Cassandra told him, her voice as calm and quiet as the rest of them as she explained, "None of us could deny it: he's rank number one in the House, he's made our oldest House members look like little more than his puppets and he's turned the bravest of us into quivering, crapping ourselves piles of…well, crap. In any order, he's become in a few months what took the last one nearly six years to become: he is the King, Adrian; we are his warriors, his servants, his spies and his tools."

"Nothing else," added Marcus, watching as Harry's brow furrowed once more, "Now let's let him sleep: even the King needs his rest."

With a resigned sigh, Adrian looked to his dorm-mates before he told them, "He's not going to like this, you know that."

"We know," chorused the Slytherins.

"And we're ready for whatever comes next," finished Hermione, her eyes locked onto Harry as they waited for the inevitable.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

It was nearly two-and-a-half hours later that Harry opened his eyes, the length of time necessary telling the Slytherins that their King had either _just_ fallen asleep or hadn't been out of it for that long.

Whatever the reason, when Harry opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on Adrian's lap with the rest of the House kneeling before him in submission, a cold smile threatened to break out over his face, especially when he saw that each of them were with their own eyes closed, some of them actually snoring gently in their own sleep-induced state.

Sitting upright, Harry let one arm rest over the back of the chair before he cleared his throat, craned his neck and, with no real remorse, he asked, "So, who was the first to get the message?"

There were a few surprised, even fearful reactions as the House all woke from their own sleep, each of them looking to the proud, cold-hearted individual before them as Harry looked back to them with curiosity evident in his gaze, "Well, clearly you're not here praying to God, so who is it that made you see things as they should be?"

"Me, my King," answered Hermione, earning a smirk from Harry that she interpreted as pride before the brunette continued, "Well, it was with Draco's help, but I was the one who helped them get the hint that there _was_ one with the right to rule."

"Draco?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow as he glanced to his future brother.

"She's telling the truth, Harry," Draco answered, a few of the others flinching as though he'd just spoken the name of another Dark Lord, "Hermione has actually spoken with me before now about how we go on talking with you and interacting with you. Then, when our families gathered for the Christmas Gathering, we had our own meeting and came to an agreement: _you_, Harry James Potter, are the one, true Slytherin King…long live the King!"

"Long live the King!" chorused Slytherin House, each of them now bowing before Harry while Draco remained upright.

"Just like I promised you, my brother," he remarked, his voice edged by determination as he met Harry's icy gaze, "All of Slytherin bows to you; the House is, as it always should have been, yours to command."

Rising from his seat, Harry was then aware of a feeling of dread passing through each of the students; without realising it, a cold, calculating smile had broken out across the face of the Slytherin King as he stood there, basking in the shadowy glory that had come from his dorm-mates.

"This changes nothing," he told them, "We are one House now, united under whom?"

"You," chorused the Slytherins, earning a slow nod from Harry as he went on.

"Our creed is to be silent, observant and swift like the serpents that decorate our robes; well I say it's time to remind others of that."

"How do we do that, sir?" asked Andreas, watching as Harry surveyed each of them before settling his eyes on the boy.

"Mr…"

"McKnight, sir; Andreas McKnight."

"Mr McKnight," Harry replied coolly, his tone as cold and sibilant as many had heard of Voldemort's voice as being, "Well, Mr McKnight, if you must know the secrets to being like our namesake, then you clearly don't belong here. However, for the sake of our future, I'll indulge you: firstly, though _you_ see power as the means to an end, never forget that nearly all of us here come from nobility and, where actions are _not_ needed, we have two other things at our disposal: our sharp minds and our words."

There were a few whispers from the Slytherins before Harry continued, "That being said, I am telling you _now:_ as Mr Derrick, Mr Rosier and Mr Montague will tell you, I _despise_ anyone who targets the lesser-cared-for community of Muggle born students simply because they are either more than us or just plain different. Furthermore, there's a word we use and, rest assured, each and _every_ single one of you; if I find that _any_ Slytherin has used that word after today, I will take great pleasure indeed in showing you what I did to Rosier and Montague when they crossed our newest serpent."

Here, Hermione felt a small smile creep onto her face before Harry went on, "I kid you not: any who have brothers and sisters coming up had better warn them of the dangers of using the M-word in this House. Furthermore, though it is _out_ of Slytherin character, you will also avenge any others who have that name slung in their direction. We started the word, so it only seems fitting that we end it: if I am the Slytherin King, then I command it of you. Work until the term of…of…_Draco!_"

"_Mudblood_," Draco hissed, spitting out the word like venom between his teeth.

"That word," Harry told them, "Work and do anything you have to or need to in order to make sure that term is as feared as the name of Voldemort himself!"

Here, none of the Slytherins flinched, which amused Harry as he asked, "Are you saying that you now fear _me_ over the so-called Dark Lord?"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" chorused the Slytherins.

"That makes things interesting," Harry sniggered, sniffing once before he explained, "In that case, I want you to know that I hope you are all good at hiding that fear: from now on, we show a united front within this House. Each of you are loyal to one another, but your ultimate loyalty, as you so decreed, belongs to the Slytherin King, to _me!_ If I call, you answer; if I summon, you part the oceans to be at my side; if I command…"

"We obey," finished the House members.

"Then," Harry continued, "I command you, sons and daughters of Salazar: rise."

Each member of the House was on their feet in mere moments, Harry meanwhile, turned to face Adrian, who paled in fright and intimidation as the cold gleam of those eyes locked onto him.

However, instead of the pain that he half-expected, Adrian was surprised when Harry approached him and, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, he told him, "Thank you, Adrian Rosier: it seems I allowed my thirst for power to drive me to near-unconsciousness: thank you for allowing me the chance to rest. For this, you are forgiven for your past and, as is my right, I believe, I name you as the first of my new Court and close confidants: congratulations."

Here, Adrian _nearly_ fainted while the Slytherin students applauded Harry's choice, the eyes of the King gazing upon each of them as he added, "For now, I only have four others in my Court: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Peregrine Derrick, you are to be judged: prove yourself loyal and true as Adrian has and you shall have the honour of being my true ally once more. As for the rest of yours, never forget what I said here and never forget the third rule of Slytherin: no snake slithers alone."

"Yes, Your Majesty," chorused the Slytherins, but they all changed their tone as Harry glared, prompting them to change as they added, "Yes, Harry."

"Better," Harry smirked, leaving his Housemates and Court members to consider what they'd just heard and learned while he called it a night for real.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Dumbledore didn't know what could have gone wrong:

Ever since the Sorting Hat had dropped the nail in the coffin and sent Harry to Slytherin, things had just gotten worse and worse for the Headmaster. First, Harry somehow had the means to overpower three elder-year students and then have a member of another House use the old and, so he'd believed, forgotten rite of Head of House's Transfer to get her into Slytherin.

Then, to add to that, Dumbledore had heard rumours from some of the other members of staff of Harry's insistence for perfection and success in every one of his tasks; Filius himself had actually compared Harry to another from another time.

And, to make it worse – like things couldn't get _any_ worse for Dumbledore if they tried – when Harry had stayed over the holidays, he'd had the charms and spells on his Father's Cloak nullified and removed completely. Dumbledore had bent over backwards and called in a whole cavalcade of favours to get that Cloak into his hands and now it was all for nothing.

And to think, all this started because of the Muggles' idiotic anti-magic ways resulting in sending Harry to an Orphanage;

Well, Dumbledore had _other_ ways to get what he needed and, one way or another, he would get them…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Little did Dumbledore realise that, at the same time that he was worrying about ways to get Harry back onto the right path, the source of his thoughts was sat in the Slytherin Dormitory, a soothing piano piece playing from one of his Dreamweaver Crystals while, in his hands, Harry also held onto a parchment that had come to him from none other than Barchoke, the goblin who'd served him back in Gringotts.

_Dear Heir Potter,_

_Due to the recent information shared with us from your assigned guardians, Lord Lucius and Lady Narcissa Malfoy, I have taken it upon myself to perform a Level 5 investigation into your vaults, which matches the request you made of me many moons ago. Over the course of the Winter Solstice and following nights, I discovered many different inconsistencies that I feel should be brought to your attention:_

_Firstly, an edict upon your vault – Vault 687 – has stated that the rite owned by the Last Son of an Orphaned House is to be ignored and that you are to be treated as a minor until the age of seventeen. This edict has not come from your parents, otherwise I would have no choice, but to oblige it; instead, my investigations reveal that it was made by one Albus Dumbledore, who has falsified a claim to being your magical guardian._

_Secondly, upon beginning the Level 5 investigation, which required me to examine the Family Vault of House Potter, I discovered several items had been removed from the vault by your falsified guardian under the guise of offering them to you 'when you were ready.' _

_Amongst these items are your Father's Invisibility Cloak, which dates back to the days of Ignotus Peverell, as well as the complete armoury contents of the Potter Family Battle Annexe and, finally, a collection of books filled with information unique only to the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, including a journal belonging to your family's founder, Godric Gryffindor._

_The final thing that I discovered wrong with my investigations pertains to the old family's rite of marital contracts and bonds: the complete archive as arranged by Lord James Potter containing _all_ Potter family contracts and agreements was destroyed. A communication with my Clan Chief, Ragnok Dragonsbane, has revealed that the source of the destruction was an apparently-rogue dragon attack._

_Naturally, I do not believe in such poor fortunes: the Potters are one of our eldest clientele families and to betray such a sacred trust is to risk my head._

_Therefore, in light of information shared with my person by Lord Malfoy pertaining to a hopeful-soon-to-be adoption into the Black Family, I offer not only my condolences and sorrows for these mistakes not being noticed beforehand, but I also offer you what is rightfully yours: the ring of the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter. While Lord Malfoy – if he became your guardian – would be responsible for the political side of your Lordship until you turned 15, you would control all your fortunes once more _and_ be able to recover the lost diaries and Grimoire._

_If this information is correct and you are proceeding with the event, then I will dispatch one of my own most-trusted advocates to oversee the transfer of name and power and award you with the Headship that is rightfully yours._

_And, as penance for my crime, I pledge my entire brotherhood of goblins and Clan to whatever endeavours you need our services for;_

_May your swords stay sharp, my Lord Potter,_

_Barchoke Warhammer_

"I am going to _kill_ Dumbledore once he's outlived his usefulness," snarled Harry, his darkness manifesting itself in the way his magic dropped the temperature of the room to freezing.

At the same time, Harry had to admire Lucius' pluck for acting on his own accord: though he was yet to confirm whether or not he wished to go ahead with the adoption, it was nice for Harry to see that the Malfoys' promise to aid his desires any way he had to. With freedom from the bonds of childhood, including the Trace from the Ministry, Harry would be able to work towards his goals without needing to worry about anybody interfering where they weren't welcome.

As a bonus, he would also be able to reward Bellatrix for her devotion and loyalty to him: she'd told him many a time of the story leading up to her own finding him and raising him as her own son. She'd talked about how she was an innocent woman and how people blamed her for the state of two other prominent pureblood members, although that wasn't entirely true. She'd also shared with him the details of the night his own parents had died and not held back in explaining how she'd felt nothing at first for Harry's birth mother, but when she'd risked her life to protect her own son, then Bellatrix had started to admire them.

Such devotion, such loyalty and such a means as she was for Harry to build his power and achieve the victory that he would one day have: such things were deserving of a reward. Therefore, Harry would give back to Bellatrix what she had given to him: freedom.

Of course, he knew that she would not abandon him just because she was no longer on the run: no, she'd stand true to his side and make sure that he became the Dark Lord.

That was her promise to him, after all, and, as the latest days showed, such a promise was only the beginning of the path that led Harry to where he was now: standing tall and striding across the skin of the world while his enemies cowered beneath him and his friends and allies followed behind him like a general leading his army.

Now, there was only one task at hand that Harry needed to fulfil and, once again, it seemed that he would need the help of his Court to achieve his goals, which was probably why he was currently sat there waiting while also reading the letter from Gringotts.

A soft knocking at the door had Harry smirking with success and, lifting his head, he commanded, "Enter!"

From the other side, Hermione and Draco walked in side-by-side, the two of them dipping their heads in acknowledgement of Harry's station before Hermione asked him, "You wished to see us, Master?"

"Yes," Harry replied, his voice cold and dark as he addressed his most-loyal Court members, "I have a job for you."

**Chapter 10 and Harry seems to have settled into the role of being the one with power, but can he escape the bonds of his past forever?**

**Plus, though it seems that he's finally on a first-name basis with the girl, when will Hermione earn the right to return the favour?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: A timeskip and it's the Hogwarts Exams, but Harry has other things on his mind as Hermione has news for him; plus, the Dark Trio go after the hidden treasure and Harry comes face-to-face with the challenger for his throne: expect fireworks…and a darker ending to it than canon…**

**Please Read and Review…**


	11. The Second Encounter

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**EndlessChains; Well, until the time comes for the official crowning of the new Dark Lord, why shouldn't our hero have his fun?**

**Winged Seer Wolf: In a way like nothing we'd expect of our normal hero, I can promise you, old friend;**

**T4: I get that you enjoyed it; I always try to grab people's attention from the title alone;**

**Shadow Dragon3221: I think I might have a trick or two up my sleeve;**

**StormyFireDragon: It'll certainly make things interesting as other years' events play out, Storm;**

**MrGagaSlashLover: As much as I would **_**love**_** to say yes, I'm afraid that for now, he is needed;**

**WhiteElfElder: All will be revealed in due time, I promise you;**

_From the other side, Hermione and Draco walked in side-by-side, the two of them dipping their heads in acknowledgement of Harry's station before Hermione asked him, "You wished to see us, Master?"_

"_Yes," Harry replied, his voice cold and dark as he addressed his most-loyal Court members, "I have a job for you."_

Chapter 11: The Second Encounter

As spring slowly began to move on and the glorious, carefree days of summer began to descend upon Hogwarts, the time changes within the school were noticed by all, especially with the announcement of the annual Hogwarts Exams. Throughout the school, there were many different states of emotional turmoil and worrisome moments for most of the students, some of them actually resorting to late-night, last-minute cram sessions to get the job done.

In Gryffindor, more than any of the other Houses, their time was also consumed by Ronald Weasley moving amongst them, trying to get the smarter members of the House to help him, which, in his deluded state of mind, meant that he sat back and didn't pay attention while they did all the work. Such actions resulted in him being locked out of the first-year dorms and given a stern lecture from Professor McGonagall on paying attention in future, though it was after said lecture that the red-haired idiot made the mistake of thinking he could swallow down his own bigotry and approach the Slytherins, namely Hermione.

All he got in return was a one-way trip to the Hospital Wing for using the M-word when he insulted the fact that Hermione didn't even bother to give him the time of day.

As for the rest of the Slytherins, they weren't as worried as their peers, though some of them were more concerned for the state of mind of their King as he spent many nights studying in a seat that, time was, had been reserved for the highest-year Slytherin Prefects and/or the Head Boy and Girl. The only ones that he allowed to get within two feet of his study space were the members of his Court, each of whom kept others at bay unless they were summoned by Harry himself.

In this manner, the Slytherins became, quite possibly, the _only_ House who weren't as worried about the exams themselves as the rest of the school; on the contrary, they were more concerned for failing to remind everyone else of the superiority and top-class rankings that Slytherin was infamous for. Where certain first-year members – such as Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott – were in decline with their studies, the higher years stepped in and helped out, though not without informing either Hermione or Draco of the progress of their young protégés.

Soon, the exams were upon them and, for the full length of the time, very little was said or done in the way of keeping order in Slytherin, though there were some nights that the students found Harry slumped out in his personal throne, eyes closed and an open book either open on his stomach or dangling from his hand.

"How does he manage it?" asked Graham one night before the end of the exams, "He knows that he doesn't _have_ to keep going now that the year is almost out and yet he doesn't stop."

"Knowledge is power, Gray," Marcus reasoned, watching as Draco approached Harry's sleeping form and gently lay a quilt over the King's body, giving him an air of comfort in the dark of the night, "And he _is_ the Slytherin King now; it doesn't take a genius to fill in the blanks."

"And this is just the beginning," added Draco, returning to his dorm-mates as he told them, "I think he's actually going to do it this summer, you two: you know? Become a member of my family, I mean: with the power of both Potter _and_ Black coursing through his veins, he'll be an irresistible force."

"And his will is an immovable object," Hermione put in, speaking from her own study place near where the boys were standing, "And we all know what happens when those two forces collide."

The boys just nodded in unspoken agreement as they went about their own business…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Finally, the end of the exams came around and, as a little end-of-session treat for the group, Harry _allowed_ himself to socialise with his Court out in the rare May sunshine that had enveloped Hogwarts in its glow. Meeting out by the edge of the Black Lake, the Slytherin King took the most-shaded spot on the bank while the Court gathered around him, Draco idly twirling his wand while Hermione seemed content to bathe in the glow of the sun like a normal kid.

"Boy," groaned Blaise, stretching his arms all the way up before he flopped down onto the soft grass, "I thought that would be a cakewalk given how hard we've been studying, but I don't think I've been in tougher conditions in my life…_ever._"

"I'm with you there, Blaise," Hermione replied, though she caught sight of the smallest smirk crossing Harry's face in agreement. "So what now? I mean the year is almost out and the summer is coming up, so what do we do in the meantime?"

"We carry on," Harry replied coolly, drawing his yew wand before he slowly traced it through the air, his eyes almost shining as he imagined whatever it was that he was drawing out becoming real, "We may have survived this year, but what comes next is down to us: for now, we continue as normal, which means we keep getting stronger and working towards the goal we've had for months: restoring Slytherin honour."

"With you at the helm, we won't really fail that," Blaise shrugged, but he fell silent as Harry's cold eyes met his gaze.

"You'd _better_ not, Zabini," he hissed, his tone suggesting that it was less Harry speaking and more the Slytherin King.

"Come on, Blaise," Daphne suddenly piped up, rising from her own place on the grass before she took Blaise's arm, "Let's…let's just go and sort out about our training…before you're made to regret what you just said."

Blaise didn't need telling twice: once they were gone, Hermione, Draco and Adrian all saw Harry straighten his posture and, lifting his hand, he beckoned to them, the three other members of the Court approaching their King where, without any sort of hesitation, Harry commanded, "Report."

"We looked into the Cerberus and the twists and turns of the year as you requested," Draco explained, speaking calmly, but with purpose and determination as he addressed his future brother, "But all we found out is that the corridor was made off-limits shortly before the start of the year."

With an interested look that chilled the blood of the trio to the bone, Harry asked, "_How_ shortly?"

"A month," Adrian explained, earning a glance from Harry that had him shivering before he continued, "Clearly something's been put there and I'd be willing to bet Knuts to Galleons that this is the same something that was nearly stolen from Gringotts back in the summer."

"So there's a Cerberus protecting it and the old coot thinks it's fine to just put it in a school of curious minds and children who don't listen to rules?" asked Harry, almost amused with the logic behind the idea as he added, "How do they choose these Headmasters these days? Depending on who has the smallest amount of common sense?"

The three Slytherins laughed with an air of obedience to them before Draco asked, "So you think this…treasure thing is underneath the Cerberus?"

"Well it was in a small room with no other door, so yes," Harry answered, now rising from his seat, which told the others to follow suit, before he added, "And so, since he seems to want me to play Detective Gryffindor, I say we indulge the old fool: we're going to see a man about a dog…and tame that demon dog in the process."

"When?" asked Hermione.

"Tonight!"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

It was a simple-enough plan;

Using the now-cleansed Invisibility Cloak as well as a spell that he learned was known as a Disillusionment Charm and a Silencing Charm on the feet of him and his cohorts, Harry would make his way to the third-floor, the other three close members of his Court acting as shadows and backup while Harry would take the lead. If anyone tried to stop him, they would stop them and ensure that the King was set on the path to victory: once they passed the Cerberus, though Draco and Hermione were naturally curious as to how he was going to do this, then the group would follow one at a time and ensure that nothing stopped Harry from finding this treasure.

Reaching the third floor corridor, Harry checked that they were alone before he drew the Cloak off his Court members and, looking to their determined, but slightly-worried expressions, he addressed them, "Okay, now remember the plan and make sure I'm not disturbed and we'll have the victory here."

"One _small_ point I'd like to make, Harry," Draco put in, earning a cold glare from his King before he asked, "No offence meant, but how are you going to get past the Cerberus anyway? I mean it's a giant, three-headed, carnivorous beast from the pits of hell and, to it, you're little more than an appetiser for its three sets of teeth to disembowel."

"Then I'll be sure to give it indigestion when I go down," Harry scoffed, the remark earning Draco a feeling of dread that told him that he would have probably been better off keeping his mouth shut.

"How long do you want us to wait?" asked Adrian, drawing his wand as he prepared to aid the King in his mission.

"Five minutes," Harry replied, "That should give me plenty of time to deal with Fido and ensure that no-one else can stop me from inside."

With a nod from the Court, Harry turned and unlocked the door, fully-aware of the fact that the charm he'd cast on the door back in the fall had been breached, signalling that someone _other_ than the trainee Dark Lord had come this way. Once through the door, a rather amusing sight greeted the Slytherin King: the giant, three-headed dog was lying down on the ground, snoring lightly – or as lightly as a Cerberus could snore anyway – and, by the side of its titan-sized body, a golden harp was playing of its own accord.

"Well, well, well," Harry mused, drawing his hawthorn wand from his cane – a part of him congratulating himself on thinking ahead with this option rather than letting the magical world trace his yew wand's spells – before he asked, "Who's been sleeping in _my_ forbidden corridor?"

Lifting the wand, Harry cast a Levitation Charm on one of the Cerberus' paws, moving it aside and revealing a trapdoor underneath the giant limb; as he approached the door, his ears picked up the sound of the harp's serenade coming to an end. Pulling himself back from the trapdoor, Harry lifted his wand and waited for the inevitable; sure enough, seconds later, the eyes of the Cerberus opened, each one of its six eyes settling on the small human standing in front of it.

"Hello there," Harry sneered, "Have a nice nap? Well, have another one: _Slumcarcera!_"

A mist, thick as pea soup and black as the Cerberus' fur, flew from Harry's wand at his command and, as it hit the Cerberus, the large dog gave a cry of pain before it fell onto its side, its legs twitching while its eyes were now closed, the force of the Dark-ish spell sending it back into the land of dreams.

A place where only Harry's magic could wake it up.

Opening the trapdoor, the young Slytherin peered down, seeing only pitch blackness with a few shadowy lumps beneath him; as he tried to perceive the darkness, a smile touched the face of the young King as he whispered, "So Rover here isn't the only one protecting your treasure, Dumbledore? Very well; let the games begin…now how did that spell go?"

Lifting his head, Harry cast his mind back to a duel that seemed to be ages ago now, the power of the darkness manifesting itself in his cold glare and hardened expression as a laugh escaped him before he asked, "Wait a minute: why do I need a spell when I have something _much_ better?"

Lifting his free hand, Harry snapped his fingers, his green eyes shining with power as he poured his magic into his will; at the same time, just as he had hoped, a ball of black flames manifested itself into life, the warmth of the flames tickling at the cold sensations in Harry's body while it also gave him a light with which he could pierce the darkness below.

Dropping his head and upper body into the hole, Harry let the light from his flames illuminate the space below and, just like with the Cerberus, a laugh and a sense of dark amusement filled him as he saw what _looked_ like a living jumble of vines below him.

"Herbology," Harry whispered, "Looks like Devil's Snare: how unfortunate…for the plant!"

With a flick of his hand, Harry sent the flames tumbling down into the abyss; when they met the writhing mass of vines below, there was an eerie, haunting screech and, as he watched, Harry saw the vines turn to little more than ashes, their shape revealing a floor and doorway below.

"Sprout won't be the only one," mused the Slytherin King, self-righting himself before he dropped down, landing nimbly and safely on the ground without having to worry about the plant barrier above. "And since the harp already told me of someone else being here, I think it's safe to say that there'll be something big and pretty bad waiting for me at the end."

Moving to the door, Harry turned suddenly, drawing his wand as three more thumps sounded behind him, but it was only Draco, Hermione and Adrian, the three of them standing tall, proud and vigilant with their King.

'Guess the five minutes are up,' Harry reasoned, letting his eyes settle on the door in front of him once again, 'Then I guess we'd better get moving.'

Without it needing to be said, the Court fell into place with their King, each of them moving through the chambers beyond the door where their combined skills were able to get them out of the scrapes brought up by the challenges beyond. After the Devil's Snare, there was a room filled with flying keys that Hermione managed to disable with a quick Immobulous Hex, leaving Adrian to summon the right key and, like he was a knight handing his King his sword, he presented it to Harry.

Next was a giant chess set that Draco managed to work around, though only him, Adrian and Hermione took the assigned spaces while Harry stood and watched. At one point, it looked like Draco would need to sacrifice himself to win the game before Harry, seemingly either bored or just annoyed by how long this was taking, released a wave of intoxicating, dark-born magic that had the white pieces trembling before, in apparent fear of the monster before him, the white king threw down his sword and stepped aside.

On the other side, Harry turned and, drawing his wand, he pointed it at Draco, his voice as cold as ice as he hissed, "Self-sacrifice is a Gryffindor trait: do so again without my command and you will learn the price of failure, Draco."

Draco only bowed in acknowledgement while, as Harry moved onto the next room, he turned to Adrian before he asked, "Have…have you ever felt such darkness like that?"

"In someone so young? No," Adrian replied, shivering with his own fear of the power as he added, "But we've seen how dark-minded and talented he is with wandless magic, Malfoy: given the evidence, I guess we shouldn't be so surprised."

Moving on to the next room, the trio of Court members were surprised to find an unconscious giant troll much like the one that Hermione had faced on Halloween Night, though there was no sign of Harry. Or so they thought until they passed through the door and found themselves in a large room with a single row of bottles on a table, a parchment set in front of them.

"Severus," Draco muttered, earning a nod of agreement from Harry who was already examining the bottles.

"One gets us through, the other sends us back and the rest are either wine or poison," Harry mused, smirking to himself as he added, "By the way, don't jump."

"What…woah!" gasped the other three as the door they'd stepped through suddenly slammed shut and, in place of the door, a wall of flames rose up with a second wall of fire covering the door ahead.

"Only a Slytherin would go above and beyond the call of duty so easily," sniggered Harry, turning to Hermione before he asked, "Care to solve it, my dear?"

Approaching the parchment, Hermione read it through several times and then examined the bottles; Harry, meanwhile, looked to the flames that led onwards, his eyes narrowed in a manner that both unnerved and frightened Draco and Adrian. Stepping away from the elder Slytherin, Draco approached Harry and asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Harry answered, though there was an air of danger to his tone, "Just…this is all too coincidental, really: the harp, the troll, whom I'm guessing was the same one from Halloween, the chess set with _three_ empty spaces and now a potions riddle that only someone as smart as Hermione could solve. It just seems too much of a coincidence…and then there's the big question."

"Who's the one already ahead of us?"

"Exactly."

"Ah-ha, I've got it," Hermione suddenly exclaimed, drawing Harry's attention back to her before she told him, "The smallest one will get us through, but this one here – she indicated one of the larger bottles – will get us back. Mind you…"

"There's only enough to go through for one," Harry finished, earning a nod from Hermione before he asked, "You sure about the one that takes you back?"

"Yes."

"Adrian, Draco; take the potion and go," Harry commanded, looking to Hermione before he added, "I'd like to have a word with my disciple alone: once you're back, go to Severus and tell him to contact your Father, Draco. Something tells me that we're going to need his help to get out of this."

"No offence, Harry," Draco put in, "But it's not like _you_ to ask for help from anyone."

"Just do it," Harry commanded, putting a snarl of cold command into his tone that had Draco and Adrian both taking the drink before they vanished through the flames. This just left Harry and Hermione and, as he approached her, Harry picked up the smallest bottle before he asked, "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Then I want you to know something, Hermione Granger," Harry told her, his voice edged by determination as he explained, "Your steadfast loyalty to me and your sharp mind: these are the things I have been intrigued by for months. If what lies beyond those flames is what I _think_ lies beyond the flames, then I'm going alone, but I want you to know that you have finally proven yourself worthy to me once and for all. This is why I chose _you_ as one of my Court: because, unlike Voldemort and his biased beliefs, your place, my dark Muggle-born companion, is here…at my side: so from now on, I ask that you hold your head high and let _none_ be your superior."

"Except you."

"Except me," laughed Harry, earning a dip of the head in acknowledgement from Hermione.

"May I say something now, Harry?" she asked, earning a nod from Harry, "I just wanted to say thank you: ever since you saved me from Rosier and his cronies, you've been like a true leader to me. Alpha Male and Apex Predator in Slytherin, but also you've been the one helping me to show others that I wasn't wrong. Whatever your reasons are for disliking Muggles, I want you to know that I will help you teach them their place beneath you: I don't care I was raised by Muggles because they will _never_ understand our world. Now I know my place, I want to know power and, for a long time, I've thought that knowledge was power, but now I see I'm wrong: like I said to Draco a while back, it's _power_ that is just power and, with you, I know I'll find my power, so thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry replied calmly, but before he could turn, Hermione had moved and, to his surprise, she embraced him with gratitude and warmth that he was unused to, except from Bellatrix. "What are you doing?"

"If anyone ever asks, I'll deny saying and doing this," Hermione replied softly, "But you're a great wizard, Harry James Potter…and one day, I don't know when, but one day, you will ascend to a level of greatness beyond the title of Slytherin King. You may even become the new Dark Lord and, when you do, then I will be the first to kneel at your feet, awaiting your orders: I made a decision to entrust my future to you before; now I give you everything else. Whatever you ask, I will serve."

With that, she released herself from Harry before she added, "Because you deserve to rule, Harry: you have greatness in you that no-one else can match. Not even me."

"I don't see why not," Harry reasoned, "You're pretty great too, Hermione Granger: I knew it from the first moment I saw you come out of your shell."

"Me!" laughed Hermione, blushing slightly as she asked, "Books and cleverness? No, Harry: there are more important things; some would say friendship, others would say bravery, but I say that they are loyalty, devotion, choice and, above all else, there's…well, there's power. And Harry, I only hope you come back from whatever waits for you through those flames knowing that you are more than anyone else in this school will hope to be. And when you come back, you'll have your Court, your warriors and your allies waiting to bow down to the King; good luck, my Lord."

With that, she gave him a bow of respect and submission before she took her own potion and disappeared through the flames, leaving Harry feeling slightly confused, but also amused by her little tirade.

"You're welcome, Hermione," Harry whispered, turning to the flames before he took his own potion, leaving him feeling colder than cold inside and, as he stepped through the flames, the Slytherin King _wasn't_ surprised to see the someone he'd suspected ahead of them waiting for him.

"Well," Professor Quirrell remarked, catching sight of Harry in the Mirror of Erised's reflection, "Mr Potter…or do you prefer to be called…the Slytherin King?"

"Lucius did say that one of Riddle's followers might be behind this," Harry reasoned, stepping down into the final room of the corridor's challenges before he added, "But I must confess myself…surprised: not only by your obvious acting skills now that I see them, but also that someone could fool Albus Dumbledore so easily."

"Now, Potter," Quirrell sniggered, "I think we _both_ know that when it comes to sense of duty and focus, Albus Dumbledore may as well be firing blanks."

"True," Harry agreed, looking to the mirror while also wondering why would Dumbledore have left it here?

Clearly, this was something that was meant to reduce the chances of keeping the treasure away from those who would use its power for all the wrong reasons; however, Harry was determined to do the opposite and get it for the wrong reasons. And, if he had to go through this fraudulent stammering fool to get to his prize, then it just made his victory all the sweeter.

Shrugging off his dilemma for now, Harry looked again to the mirror before he asked, "So, since I'm down here for the apparent _treasure_, do you want to go ahead and tell me what it is?"

"The Philosopher's Stone," answered Quirrell, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry that had him smiling, "Ah, I see you've heard of it."

"Mostly word-of-mouth," Harry replied, "It's said that it has the power to make the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal: plus, when a small shard of the stone is liquidated, it can turn any base metal into solid gold. Quite the insurance plan, isn't it? And so here _you_ are, hoping to acquire it for Voldemort and be rewarded beyond measure: a good plan, except for one thing."

"What?" asked Quirrell.

"Me," Harry answered, looking to the man's face before he added, "I'm not here to play the hero, Quirrell, but I'm not about to _let_ Tom Riddle return to this world when his time is long since gone; destroyed by the _true_ future of the Dark."

"You're not in any position to stop me, Potter," sneered Quirrell, "And when you are dust, the Dark Lord will reward me: he is the one who found me, rescued me from my own despair and showed me the way of the world: that there is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it."

"Good line, I'll be sure to remember that one," Harry sniggered, now holding onto his hawthorn wand once more as he added, "But if you think I came here as some weakling, then you're not only a bad stammering idiot, but you're a _blind_ stammering idiot. And I promise you, whatever your secrets, you won't stop me here, Quirrell; now step aside and I might just let you live."

"My, my, my," Quirrell laughed, Harry then aware of the man's wand pointed at him; how had the man turned so quickly without him noticing? "Do you challenge me, Mr Potter? Do you think that you can hold your own against someone like me?"

"Hold my own against a crazed, deluded, falsely-stammering nitwit that stinks to high heaven of garlic? I don't know," Harry shrugged, before he lifted his wand as he added, "I may even break a sweat with what I'll have to do…we'll just have to see."

"Insolent brat: _Cru…_"

"Let me speak with him!"

Even as Harry heard the voice, it sent chills through his body that had him backing away from the mirror; at the same time, Quirrell went as white as a sheet before he gasped, "M-Master, you are not strong enough."

"I have strength enough for this," the sibilant voice answered, Harry then having a feeling of newfound curiosity rising inside him as Quirrell, lowering his wand, lifted his hand to his turban and began unravelling it as though he was removing the bandages of a mummy. When the last fold of cloth fell away, Harry actually gasped as he saw a deformed, but clearly once-human face on the back of Quirrell's head, a pair of cold red eyes staring at the Slytherin King from above an almost serpentine-like face; thin, bloodless lips gave an almost amused grin before the second face spoke, "Harry Potter; how long I have waited for this day. It is nice to see you again."

Harry didn't know how he knew, but he actually understood then who it was that was speaking to him, "Voldemort…you're alive."

"In a manner of speaking," Voldemort replied, smirking to himself as he sensed the darkness growing in the young Slytherin, "Ten long years suffering and searching for a true host and now, almost like fate, we meet here at Hogwarts: quite a change that ten years has done to us. We have you: a proud, strong-willed and truly dark-minded Slytherin that rules the House with the iron grip of fear and power. Then we have me: a rotting corpse of a man; one who must live off another; a mere parasite. Unicorn blood, provided to me by my dear friend, Quirinus, drinking it for me in the Forest, has sustained me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can: something that conveniently enough lies in your pocket!"

Here, Harry smirked and, reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a large blood-red stone, his eyes glowing with amusement: indeed, while he'd been talking with Quirrell, Harry had looked into the mirror, seeing his elder, claw-handed reflection and, as he'd looked, making the remark about Quirrell being blind, his elder form had reached into his pocket, withdrew the Stone and put it back, where Harry had felt it in his own pocket at the same time.

And now, holding the Stone in his hand, Harry just chuckled before he asked, "And what now, Voldemort? Are you going to try and convince me to give this to you?"

"I could just _kill_ you and get it over with," hissed Voldemort, "But I would much rather have you as my ally, Harry: look at what you can do, the power that you can have. More than life itself, I have always desires someone to carry on my legacy and claim my throne: give me the Stone and you can be that heir, my Prince of Darkness!"

"Sorry," Harry told him, confidence and darkness fuelling his voice as he explained, "Not really one for bowing at the feet of some snake-faced mutant like you: I have a better offer, Tom Riddle: why don't you come here, bow before me and call me Master and then I _might_ not incinerate your little host where he stands?"

"How do you know my true name?" asked Voldemort, his voice filled with rage as he addressed the Slytherin, "How do you know?"

"You'd be surprised what I know," Harry replied, now drawing his wand fully and completely as he added, "Now, I do believe this is what you were going to go Quirrell: _Crucio!_"

The possessed Professor was suddenly thrown to the floor, his body writhing and his screams tearing through the Chamber as Harry added, "Thought I was just another first-year, did you Tom? I know more about the darkness because I was _raised_ in it: to use this curse, you have to _mean_ it and, where you're concerned, you murdering parasite, I'll _always_ mean it!"

"Master!" cried Quirrell, his voice filled with genuine pain and fear, "This…this power; it's so strong; please…help me!"

"You will fall," Tom hissed, his voice as cold as ice as he commanded, "Kill him!"

Quirrell moved…and so did Harry. "Sorry, Tom!" Harry snarled in response, lifting his wand for what would be the final spell, "But not this time!"

Lifting his wand, the darkness swarmed through Harry before, for the first time in his life, the Slytherin King, the future Dark Lord, the _true_ Dark Lord, commanded, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A green flash that was more like green fire flew from Harry's wand, enveloping Quirrell and sending him sprawling to the ground, leaving Harry to gasp with ecstatic emotions as he felt the darkness grow inside him, his eyes shining with malice as he hissed, "That felt _pretty good._ Now what to do with this?"

Pocketing the Stone, Harry turned and made his way back towards the door, pausing only once as a feeling of cold darkness tickled the back of his neck; turning on the spot, the Slytherin King saw a dark shadow rise from Quirrell's corpse and, forming the shape of a face, the shadow hissed at him, "Until next time, my child of darkness…until next time…"

Then, with a laugh that had Harry's blood turning to ice, the shadow vanished, leaving Quirrell's body to decompose into nothingness while Harry, raising an eyebrow at the power of his dark predecessor, just smirked with amusement;

"And there _will_ be a next time," he promised the silent room before he turned and returned to the forbidden corridor…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Some-ways from Hogwarts, the spirit of Lord Voldemort stopped its flight from its vessel's destruction and, turning its head back to the school, the Dark Lord gave a smile as he whispered, "Finally; someone who knows how to have a little fun."

Harry Potter was certainly interesting and, as time went on, the Dark Lord had a feeling that his path would cross once more with the Slytherin King; however, now Voldemort didn't desire Harry's destruction.

No, power like that deserved only one true place: by his side or kneeling at his feet, ready to use that power in his name.

'Yes,' Voldemort thought, continuing his flight from Hogwarts, 'The games have only just begun.'

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

"You did it? I mean, you actually did it?"

"You're surprised?" asked Harry, sat on his bed with his back resting against the headboard, a blood-red stone clutched in his hand as Draco and Blaise shared shock at the success in his mission, "It should be obvious by now, Blaise that there is no goal that I won't do anything to achieve."

"I know that, sir," Blaise remarked, watching as Harry turned the stone several ways over, his eyes filled with dark light as he observed the ancient power source, "But, I mean what about the trial? How did you beat Albus Dumbledore's magic?"

"The Stone could only be retrieved by someone that wanted to fight it and not use it," Harry explained, before he gave a cold grin as he added, "Which is half-right for me: I _do_ want to use it, but not for the reason that Dumbledore believed that he needed to protect it: immortality, endless amounts of gold; such things don't concern me."

"So…" asked Draco, now calming Blaise with a touch to his shoulder as he saw the darkness in his leader flourish once more, "What _do_ you want it for, my Lord?"

"There's more than one way to cash in on some serious power, Draco," Harry answered, sitting upright as he moved to his trunk and, opening it, he slipped it into a compartment that he'd found could only be accessed by a Parselmouth; closing the trunk once more, Harry added, "I just wish that the vengeance I sought against that freak of a pretender hadn't forced me to use the power of the Unforgivables like I had."

"Hey," Draco sighed, "What more would we expect of Harry Potter, Slytherin King and future Dark Lord?"

"True," Harry nodded, looking over to the other two as he asked, "I trust that I can count on your discretion in how I managed to destroy Quirrellmort's body?"

"Whatever you ask, we shall serve," Blaise answered, the words having an effect on Harry that he liked; they'd been the same words that Blaise and the rest of the Court had sworn when they'd made their point in that they stood with Harry and, to hear it again, Harry knew that his power was only going to get stronger with his court around.

"Good."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Quirrell dead;

Tom gone;

The Stone missing;

The Mirror of Erised destroyed;

Albus Dumbledore couldn't understand it: he was certain somehow that Harry had been involved in the destruction and death of their defence professor, but an alibi from the Slytherin first-years as well as the fact that Dumbledore was watching Harry's magical signature very carefully was all that stopped the man from knowing that Harry had been responsible.

However, with so much on the line and now with a clear sign that Tom was coming back, Dumbledore knew that he needed a way to get Harry back on the path of light;

Perhaps it was time for history to repeat itself…

**Chapter 11 and Harry has touched the Darkest of arts possible and **_**likes**_** what he feels, but how will this change him in the future?**

**Plus, what could Dumbledore have in mind for our Dark Lord to be and what could happen when Harry and Tom clash once more?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry returns to Malfoy Manor and has a chat with Lucius about Tom's possible return; plus, he gives Narcissa his answer and starts to explore the darker side of magic after using its darkest spells; also, two who will become Court members have cameos as they consider the days ahead…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: Some of this was taken from the original draft of Cold Heart; don't ask me why, but I felt it had to be used again;**

**AN 2: I know that putting in Hermione's **_**leg-en-dar-y **_**line from PS might not have made sense, but I wanted something to start Harry's path to seeing his feelings for our favourite brunette while showing her devotion to him;**

**OC Spell:**

_**Slumcarcera: **_**The Dream Eater Curse: Forces a target to slip into a state of unconsciousness plagued by nightmares that can drive one to insanity and even death;**


	12. Back in Black

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**Shadow Dragon: The best thing I can suggest is for you to use your imagination;**

**DarkHeart81: More like walking through Fiendfyre if you ask me;**

**StormyFireDragon: But will he, Storm? **_**That's**_** the question: after all, this is a cold, merciless and willing-to-kill Harry and, let me think, what was my favourite PoA movie line? Hm…could he actually keep his word this time, I wonder?**

**EndlessChains: And yet no matter what either side tries, our Dark King will be three steps ahead of them;**

**DahliaRose: It's a fun scenario to consider, though don't forget that she's going to wind up with Harry and, like most cases, this coming year will be the point that they start to realise it;**

**T4: Them and others, my friend;**

**Stallion6 of Deviantart: One man with ambition to return to life and one with more blood on his hands than the other: only one will truly win;**

**Demigod of Nyx: It feels so good being bad and Harry has become the one true Dark force in the Snake pit if you ask me: how will it change him? Let me see…how about: he'll stop holding back in dealing with his problems?**

_Pocketing the Stone, Harry turned and made his way back towards the door, pausing only once as a feeling of cold darkness tickled the back of his neck; turning on the spot, the Slytherin King saw a dark shadow rise from Quirrell's corpse and, forming the shape of a face, the shadow hissed at him, "Until next time, my child of darkness…until next time…"_

_Then, with a laugh that had Harry's blood turning to ice, the shadow vanished, leaving Quirrell's body to decompose into nothingness while Harry, raising an eyebrow at the power of his dark predecessor, just smirked with amusement;_

"_And there will be a next time," he promised the silent room before he turned and returned to the forbidden corridor…_

Chapter 12: Back in Black

Harry shut his trunk with a snap as he looked around the room that had been his within St Christopher's for nearly ten years; what once had been a haven of dark magic, solitude, isolation and feelings of loss and hopelessness was now a barren room just waiting for its next occupant.

On the desk that was situated next to Harry's bed, Hedwig hooted as she saw her master approach her cage; stroking her feathers, Harry allowed himself a smile as he told her, "I never thought I'd see this day, Hedwig: it's not that I'm going to miss this place; it's just that I've spent so long without a family that I don't know how I'll cope with one."

Hedwig gave another hoot as Harry walked to his wardrobe and, opening it, he pulled out two large suitcases that, courtesy of Narcissa's Christmas present to him, were full of new clothes and the last remnants of his life in the orphanage.

Tapping into his wandless magic, Harry laced the trunk with a feather-light charm and placed it next to his trunk, just waiting for the moment when his new guardian – as far as the Muggle filth at the Orphanage were concerned – turned up.

With a few weeks to go until his twelfth birthday, Harry was relieved to get out of the orphanage and, though he wouldn't admit it, he was actually looking forwards to spending time with the Court and his new family on that one day. It was also on that day that Narcissa had told him that she was going to perform the Blood-Adoption Ritual to anoint Harry as a Black and as a candidate for Heir Primus.

This was what really excited Harry: with the allowance and ability to use the resources of the Blacks, Harry would be able to look into ways to use the Dark Arts without having to resort to the Unforgivables every time; then, when he became the Dark Lord and took down Voldemort once and for all, he'd be able to show them what _real_ fear looked like.

Allowing himself a soft smile, Harry's train of thought was cut off when the door to his room opened and Mariah McKnight walked into his room, closing and locking the door behind her before she shifted back into Bellatrix Lestrange, the eyes of Harry's _real_ guardian filled with delight as she told him, "Lucius and Cissa are here, Harry: I've also had Lucius wipe the memories of the staff about Mariah: it is as though she never existed."

"What about the real you?" asked Harry, looking to her with bemusement as he marvelled at how quickly they'd moved and all for his sake, "I mean, you told me that you're still technically a wanted person: what's going to happen with that?"

"Lucius has it set up for me," Bellatrix explained, her voice cold as she then added, "And he's also going to arrange a special surprise for your twelfth birthday that concerns the family: he won't tell me what it is, but all I know is that it's going to help you obtain your place as Heir Primus."

"If you say so," Harry replied, his eyes lowered as he asked, "And, speaking of family, do they remember that I have no desire to be the perfect son for them? I won't let anyone change me, Bella: you're still the only one I'll allow to see the real me and not my dark persona."

"I know," Bellatrix told him, giving Harry one of her favoured hugs as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before she asked, "Are you ready?"

Unlocking the door, Harry slipped into his favourite duster, his eyes shining with renewed purpose as he answered her;

"Ready."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

When Harry and Bellatrix arrived at Malfoy Manor, the dark witch was surprised to see an air of confidence and anticipation fill the eyes of her young ward as they walked towards the house's entrance. His eyes shone with a whole new sense of darkness and, though she knew what he'd done in defence and acquisition of the Philosopher's Stone, Bellatrix knew that the darkness in Harry would only grow stronger as he got older.

Not even Riddle had been able to successfully and _willingly_ cast both the Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra Curses when he was Harry's age and, despite the best attempts of the Light to do otherwise, Harry was also able to hide the dark ecstasy that he'd felt with using the two Unforgivables.

This talent alone told Bellatrix that, on the day that Harry announced himself as the new Dark Lord, there wouldn't be any force greater than him able to claim the title. With his Court at his back and his family by his side, Harry wouldn't just be unstoppable, he would be incredibly unpredictable and that would make it harder for his enemies to guess what his next move would be.

Moving into the warmth and welcome feelings of Malfoy Manor, Harry didn't even react when he found his things being magically-transported to his room; nor did he make any sort of expression of bewilderment when he opened the door to the grand ballroom of the home to find Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and the tall, lean form of Severus Snape waiting for him.

Instead, with a curt nod of mutual respect to his Head of House, Harry addressed Lucius as he asked, "What's this about, Lucius? I thought that the ritual wasn't due until my twelfth birthday?"

"It isn't," Lucius agreed, before he indicated Severus as he added, "However, given our recent…developments, I asked Severus to come here to assist you and Draco in learning about the true power of the Dark Arts. I _know_ he is bound to a loyalty oath from you and that you also have him under your Father's life-debt, so I know he won't betray you."

Harry had a feeling that his soon-to-be-adoptive guardian wanted to say _us_, but given that Harry had officially been recognised as the Slytherin King, it seemed that Lucius knew that any threat to Slytherin _was_ a threat to Harry.

Lifting his head with an air of curiosity, Harry addressed his Head of House now as he asked him, "Is this true, Severus? Because you know that by doing this, you are choosing your own fate: I once told you that I was grateful of how you have honoured the vow I swore you to, but this is the true point of no return. You've seen my dark side, you _know_ I'm not afraid to kill to get the job done and/or protect my secrets or myself. So, I'll only ask you once, Severus Snape: is this _really_ what you choose?"

"It is," Severus answered calmly, his voice edged by a sense of purpose as he explained, "Like I told you when you brought your Father's cloak to me, Harry: I have come too far past the point of no return to turn back now. I know that you can cast the three Unforgivable Curses and also have the slyness and support that a true Slytherin treasures to mask the fact that you have done so; and so, once and for all, I, Severus Tobias Snape, pledge myself to your cause: like your friends, I will help you become the new, _true_ Dark Lord and assist you in keeping out of the crosshairs of the Light. I swear this to be true on the Ancient Magic itself."

"By the magic of my bloodline and the debts owed from you to me, I accept your vow," Harry answered, feeling a powerful magic link him and Severus that, when the man looked later, he found to have been powerful enough to turn the Dark Mark on his arm and the magic binding him to it into nothing more than dust.

"Now that's done," Lucius then added, "I was wondering if we might have a little chat, Harry: not about the ritual, but about what will follow."

"I think I can spare some time," Harry reasoned, masking a yawn by covering his mouth with one hand before he added, "Tomorrow: tonight, I want to rest up and regain the strength that is still lost to me from using those two curses. So, if that's everything, then I'll say goodnight Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, Bellatrix and Severus."

"Sleep well, little Lord," Bellatrix remarked, watching as Harry left the room, Draco following suit just a few minutes later…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

The slam of a door was nothing new to the inhabitants of the Burrow, but this one time, the slam of the door was for more than rage or a desire for privacy.

This time, the cause of the slam was the recently-turned-eleven-year-old Ginevra Weasley, her eyes filled with rage and disbelief as she considered the pure-bred idiocy of her brother and, not for the first time did she wonder just _how_ in Merlin's name she was related to such a one-track-minded simpleton.

Ever since returning home for his summer holidays, Ron had badgered her on and on about getting close to one Harry James Potter, just for the simple reason that her Mother had raised her on the stories of the Boy-Who-Lived. However, when Ginny had heard from her brothers the first time and learned that her fantasy idol was a Slytherin, she had been changed inside: sure, like any hero-worshipper and idoliser of the Boy-Who-Lived, she'd been disappointed.

However, the more that Ronald sent complaining letters home about the boy, the more that Ginny found her eyes being opened and now, just because Harry had flat-out ignored Ron's offers of _friendship_, he was apparently now a Dark Wizard, a traitor and a monster.

Ginny had lost it when Ron had told her that he was counting on _her_ to steer the boy back on track; when she asked him why, his answer had earned him a smack to the face, "Well, you _do_ want to marry him when you're old enough, don't you? How can he choose anyone else?"

In that smack, the last of fan-girl Ginny had died and, as she fell onto her bed, screaming into her pillows, the red-haired girl felt not a sense of want or _need_ for the Boy-Who-Lived.

Instead, she felt a wish rise up in her, the words of the wish coming out as she thought about the year ahead:

"Harry, if it's the last thing I do, I'll prove myself worthy to know the real you…and then, if you wish it of me, I'll silence them all!"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

In another slightly-more-grand estate, the dark-haired form of Neville Longbottom closed the door to his bedroom before he sat down on his own bed, his eyes fixed on a single point as he considered the events of the past year. Seeing and managing to contact the Slytherin King to inform him of his choice to stay away until Harry was ready had been tough for Neville, but he knew that the boy would _never_ willingly trust a Gryffindor, especially one like him.

In the meantime, Neville had been training his mind and body, using his status as the Pride Outcast to get away from the naysayers and false idolisers of the Boy-Who-Lived who sought only his fame and fortune rather than his force and fury. At one point, Neville had demonstrated his new power when he'd attacked Weasley for arguing that he should help him steal a dragon away from the school.

Where he'd gotten the dragon from, Neville had no idea, but he didn't care about the red-head.

All Ronald Weasley wanted was to find a way into the circle of the Slytherin King and lure him away from his true friends and allies for the sake of letting others believe _he_ was somebody.

As if _that_ would ever happen!

For now, Neville knew that the time was coming where he could no longer hide in the shadows: when he'd seen the King at the end-of-term feast, he'd seen the dark glow in Harry's eyes when the _sudden_ death of Professor Quirrell had been mentioned.

In that one moment, Neville had seen it: he'd seen the Darkness and he'd blinked first, showing both fear and respect for the power that sat with the emerald-clad students.

When Slytherin had won the House Cup for yet another year, there'd been no cheers or wild adulation from the Slytherins: instead, they'd just applauded with the others and looked as though they'd simply been told of a new chapter being written in the saga forged by Harry Potter's dark presence.

If Neville was going to make his move, he knew that what he needed was a way to get in close to Harry and talk without worrying about further antagonising or drawing out the cold, dark power of the Slytherin King.

Little did he know that, as he was thinking of many possible answers to his dilemma, the right answer to said future was sleeping in a misshapen house not far from the crumbling, uneven tower-like structure of the Burrow.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

After a good-night's sleep, a light breakfast and a long, but definitely-valuable research and homework session in the library with Draco, Harry left the large, book-filled room and, moving down through the manor house, he soon found himself where he'd wanted to be for a long while now.

Without even considering the rudeness or insult of the moment, Harry pushed open the door to the room and, on the other side, he felt a smirk touch his lips when he found Lucius organising through several dark-looking tomes and items. Seeing Harry at the door to his study, the Malfoy Lord gave his young ward a small smile before he inclined his head as he asked, "Harry, is something the matter?"

"In a manner of speaking," Harry replied, locking the door behind him before he asked, "Lucius, your loyalty _is_ to me and my cause, isn't it?"

"Of course, young Lord," answered Lucius, placing the books that he'd been sorting through onto his desk before he asked, "Why do you question that?"

"If I know Severus as I do," Harry answered, moving towards Lucius before taking a seat in front of the desk as he added, "He'll have explained to you about what happened at the end of term…with a certain _late_ professor and the spirit that possessed him. I believe you know his name, Lucius: Voldemort!"

Much like the Slytherins, Lucius didn't flinch at the mention of the _former_ Dark Lord's name; instead, he took a seat behind his desk before he asked, "And do you suspect that I knew of his presence, young sire?"

"No," Harry answered, now drawing his wand from his cane as he explained, "I _suspect_ that you didn't know of Voldemort being there, but you _did_ know of someone working for him being there. Therefore, Lucius Malfoy, my question is this and, like Severus has been warned, I tell you now: this will be the one and _only_ time I ask you. Give me the wrong answer and I will make sure Lucius Malfoy becomes a mere footnote of memory, do I make myself clear?"

Lucius nodded, a small amount of sweat forming on his brow as Harry asked, "Do you or do you not owe allegiance _still_ to Lord Voldemort?"

"I do _not,_" Lucius answered, his voice calm as he told Harry, "My loyalty is to you, Harry, as I have said: when I become your parental guardian, I will make sure that you remain as powerful and clean of obstructions as you have been recently. Then, in light of recent events, should what we both suspect come to pass, I will not only stay true to my loyalty to you, but I will reveal anything and everything that I know of Voldemort to help you kill him or make him acknowledge _you_ as _his_ Master. That is my vow to you and it is life-binding, my young Slytherin King."

"Then tell me something," Harry added, reaching into his robe before, to Lucius' shock, he withdrew a single black diary where, as Harry slammed it down onto the desk, he turned it over and revealed the name at the bottom of the page-backing, "Why is something of _his_ in your possession, Lucius? If you are truly loyal to me, then you would destroy it _now!_"

"I shall, of course," Lucius answered, drawing his own wand before he explained, "I confess to you, my Lord: I was given that by…the pretender to your title and asked to look after it, but now that my loyalty serves a new liege-lord, I have no reason to hold myself to that promise. Therefore, I shall dispose of it immediately."

"No," Harry sniggered, now looking up to Lucius before he added, "You won't: because you see, Lucius, there are a few things that Bellatrix and I have not told you of _my_ upbringing. One thing is that, in our sessions and her care and devotion to me, my dear Bella discovered something inside of me. Something that has contributed not only to my becoming Lord Slytherin, but also ensured that I remain as dark and powerful as I always have been."

"What is this thing?"

Indicating the diary, Harry smiled coldly as he explained, "It's the same as this, Lucius: a Horcrux, or a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul, sealed away inside of me as it is inside this diary and, much like the one in me, I don't seek to destroy it. No: on the contrary, I wish to _absorb_ it!"

"A-absorb it?" asked Lucius, earning a nod from Harry.

"Bellatrix taught me much about the magic of the Black Family already," Harry explained, twirling the tip of his wand over the diary as he told Lucius, "Including the dark and borderline-forbidden art of Blood Magic and Nethermancy or Soul Magic that was explored by the likes of Arcturus Black and his predecessors and descendants. In those studies, Bellatrix found me a way to absorb the Horcrux in me and now, since it is not directly tied to me as the first one was; I want _you_, Lucius, to find a way for me to absorb _this_ Horcrux too. When you find it, let me know immediately!"

"But…but Harry," gasped Lucius, looking from the diary to Harry as he asked, "If…if it is your destiny to become a Darker Lord than Voldemort, why would you absorb his soul into yours? It would mean that you are almost one and the same, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps," Harry agreed, now meeting Lucius' gaze with his cold, almost-glowing emerald-eyed glare as he added, "Or perhaps I desire to become more than him and, as for these pieces, perhaps it is my plan to harness their powers and _make_ Tom Riddle bow at my feet. After all, the soul is both a mysterious and wondrous thing. With the right Dark Rituals and the right sort of power, who knows what they could become?"

"The right…" Lucius began, before his eyes widened as he added, "The Philosopher's Stone!"

"Bingo," Harry sniggered, linking his fingers now as he asked, "So, my slippery friend, do we have an agreement to your task?"

Once again, Lucius heard a hint of the Dark Lord in Harry's tone and, with a soft bow of his head, he answered, "You have my word, my Lord: I will work as quickly as I can with this task of yours."

"Good," Harry nodded, "Keep me informed…and now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some studying to get back to."

With that, he rose from his seat and left the study, pausing only once to retrieve the diary and pocket it once more;

At the same time, Lucius couldn't help but shiver as he pictured a darkness ruled by Harry Potter with Tom Riddle's power, knowledge and servitude at his side.

The _real_ Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance;

No-one would…

**A sort of filler Chapter 12 and it seems that Harry has plans for Tom, but with him knowing about the Horcrux, what **_**are**_** these plans?**

**Also, what roles do Ginny and Neville seek to play in the future and who could this **_**opportunity**_** be for the Black Lion to prove himself to his would-be Lord?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Diagon Alley and Harry is forced to meet the bane of our existence: Gilderoy Lockhart; plus, Lucius receives word from Bellatrix of the existence of another Horcrux and, as Harry explores for potential, he shows his dark nature when our favourite dreamy girl makes her debut…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: How did you like this, then? Harry seems to be driven by power and, though he seeks to overpower Voldemort, he has a plan to make things worse for the pretender; I hope you enjoy the games that are to come;**


	13. Demons in Diagon

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Eventual Neville/Ginny

Eventual Draco/Luna

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**T4: Not fan-Ginny; more devoted-Ginny and, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to wait a **_**little**_** longer for our least favourite prat;**

**EndlessChains: I don't think it's actually been done before with the Horcruxes, so I wanted to give it a go;**

**StormyFireDragon: You want eye-opening, Storm? Watch what happens next…**

**MythStar Black Dragon: I don't know: to be honest, I haven't thought of any possibilities beyond our Dark Harmony, so I might do;**

**Stallion6 of Deviantart: And the dam gates that block those rivers are about to be opened;**

_With that, he rose from his seat and left the study, pausing only once to retrieve the diary and pocket it once more;_

_At the same time, Lucius couldn't help but shiver as he pictured a darkness ruled by Harry Potter with Tom Riddle's power, knowledge and servitude at his side._

_The real Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance;_

_No-one would…_

Chapter 13: Demons in Diagon

In years to come, Harry would begin to wonder about the possibility of Diagon Alley becoming busier and busier with each passing year;

It certainly seemed to be the case as the now twelve-year-old Slytherin King walked down the street accompanied by Lucius and Narcissa, his sharply-dressed appearance only emphasised by the presence of the Black Family Crest on his robe as well as the Potter Crest. However, to look at him, no-one would actually connect him to the infamous Boy-Who-Lived anymore.

Thanks to the Blood Adoption Ritual performed by Lucius and Narcissa, Harry's body had undergone a painful, but worthwhile transformation: he was still tall and lean, though both Draco and Severus made remarks that this new Harry could pass for a young Severus with his appearance. His jet-black hair had seemingly mirrored Narcissa's colouring and had a few white streaks coming off his fringe like lightning bolts from out of the shadows.

However, the biggest change involved his eyes: what once were emerald-green eyes that screamed danger, death and dismay for all unfortunate souls unlucky enough to cross his path were now two bright, ice-cold, mercury-like _silver_ eyes that seemed to combine the coldness of the grey-eyed Malfoy glare with the fierce sharpness of Harry's emerald eyes and hidden darkness of Narcissa's blue eyes. The end result was the cold silvery glare that made Harry look like a spirit possessed; a denizen of the darkness.

A true Dark Lord.

And now, thanks to his transformation, Harry James Malfoy-Black-Potter was ready to get back on the path that led to the throne he'd envisioned weeks ago in the Mirror of Erised.

So to him, the busy movements and arguments of the people around him was little more than background noise while his objective was clear and focused: his transformation had meant that he needed a new set of robes and a few essential items for his second year at Hogwarts and, while he could have had the Court deliver the items to him, he felt it more appropriate that he allow them the opportunity to meet the new and improved Harry Potter.

Besides, there was something in Diagon Alley that the Slytherin King wanted to get his hands on.

At least, according to Bellatrix, there was:

_Flashback Start_

_**After the ritual**_

_Harry tentatively examined his newly-reborn body, a part of him admiring the way that the cold, almost icy silver of his eyes only saw fit to mirror the cold glare of his eyes from time before now. While he had admired the glow that had filled his eyes when they were emerald, there was just something…he didn't know what, but something ethereal about the ghostly shade that they were now._

_Like giving the world the finger and telling them that their saviour was dead once and for all._

_As he ran a hand through his sleek dark hair, the Slytherin King let his fingers toy with the lengthy white-lightning-like bangs that framed his features, a part of him wondering _why_ his appearance had changed so much when, according to the vision he'd seen, his eyes and hair were still normal._

_Shrugging off his confusion for now, Harry donned his favourite stone-grey shirt – adjusted thanks to Narcissa, though she agreed with Harry that they'd need to go shopping soon – and, turning away from his mirror, he made his way down to the room used by Bellatrix. Since she had not wanted to see her honorary son in such pain, she'd consented to just stand by and wait until the aftermath._

_Now that he was transformed, Harry could show her and talk to her: apparently, there was something of importance that she wished to share with him and, according to the tone of her voice, it couldn't wait._

_Reaching her room, the young King lifted his hand and, out of respect for the _only_ being he would _ever_ consider to be worthy to be his Mother, he knocked lightly on the door._

"_Come in, Harry," Bellatrix's warm, slightly-musical tone spoke from the other side; opening the door, Harry was surprised to find Lucius sat with Bellatrix, a single black-lead box in his hand._

_When she saw the cold glare of Harry's wintry gaze, Bellatrix felt her heart grow as cold as that glare and, putting a hand to her heart, she gasped out, "Great Merlin: I see what you mean, Lucius: gods help the girls when he starts looking for a mate."_

"_Until then," Harry replied, his usually-dark tone now edged by a hint of apathy that was similar to Lucius' as he asked, "How about we get down to business, Bella? It's been a long day and I'd just as soon soak in the bath and call it a night."_

"_Oh, of course, little Lord," Bellatrix replied, using her little pet-name for him as she explained, "However, while you were recovering from the ritual, Lucius told me about your little meeting and what it is that you wanted out of the darkness. And, well, it struck me that my dear brother-in-law isn't the only one with a trinket belonging to the pretender."_

"_Trinket?" asked Harry, his eyes glowing with a cold, crystalline sheen as he asked, "You mean a Horcrux?"_

"_Yes," Bellatrix replied, a part of her wishing that she was several years younger so that she could see those eyes next to her every morning and night; remembering that this _was_ someone she called her son helped to tame those emotions as she added, "A goblet that is said to have belonged to Helga Hufflepuff: how _he_ got his hands on it is a mystery, but if it holds a Horcrux, then it is yours, my love. Go to Gringotts and use your right as the Black Prime to access my vault: there you will find it. Only a legitimate Black Family member can circumvent the Gemino Curse that I have on the vault, but against your power…well, does it need to be said?"_

"_No," Harry replied, his crystalline glare now like silver lightning in his eyes as he added, "It doesn't."_

_Flashback End_

As he passed the Magical Menagerie, Harry felt the same sense of hopeful elation that he'd encountered within Bellatrix's room, his eyes shining as bright and fiercely as ever as he considered what could lie ahead.

Another Horcrux: if, like the diary, he could absorb its darkness, then it would bring him one step closer to controlling Tom Riddle and bringing Voldemort to his knees before the _true_ Dark Lord.

However, while another Horcrux would be a boon for Harry, he had to remember that he'd charged Lucius with the task of finding a way to actually absorb the power of the first Horcrux so that he could manipulate its darkness and create his Tom Riddle servant. To him, Voldemort was the pretender, but the spirit of Tom Marvolo Riddle, sealed within each of his Horcruxes, therein laid the potential and knowledge to overpower the currently-disembodied spirit of Voldemort.

If Harry could bring Riddle out of the Horcruxes, it would forge a debt darker than an Unbreakable Vow and deadlier than a life-debt between the two and, to cash in that debt, he would make Riddle his obedient servant and force him to help Harry destroy Voldemort. Then, if Riddle sought to make history repeat itself…well, by that time, Harry would have the means to absorb the Horcrux: literally, to devour the soul of Tom Riddle and make it and its powers his own.

Approaching Gringotts, Harry stopped only once as he turned from the entrance and let his eyes wander down the dark district of Knockturn Alley; behind him, Narcissa followed his glance before she told him, "Let's get what we came for first, young prince; then you can go and explore to your heart's content."

Keeping up the appearance of a son listening to his Mother, Harry's lips twitched upwards with a thankful smile before he entered the bank; however, on the other side, he turned to Narcissa before he told her, "_Don't_ call me prince in public, Mother; the last thing I need is for some hero-worshipping Light sheep to hear my true intentions."

"Sorry, Harry," Narcissa replied, knowing that he _meant_ well in addressing her as Mother, but the feeling and sincerity of the statement was missing from the word. It was like he'd told her when she offered it to him in the first place: he wasn't a sweet and innocent member of the family or willing to act like a pureblood heir just to lower to the standards of those who expected him weak.

No, he was Harry and it was Harry who had spoken, though there had been a semblance of respect in his expression that had been there since the ritual had been performed. It was like he was _genuinely_ thankful to Lucius and Narcissa for their help, but lacked the ability or sense of personal morale to actually say the words, so instead, he let his actions do the talking and thanking for him.

Like the summer before, Harry was seen to by the apparently-loyal goblin named Barchoke and, when he asked to see the Lestrange Vault, he'd been forced to reveal the silver signet ring that hung around his neck, signalling him as Heir Primus of the Blacks – or Black Prime as Draco had once called him and since then, the name had stuck.

When they reached the vault and Barchoke opened the doorway, Harry took a single step into the vault before he stopped and, turning to Barchoke, he asked, "Might I borrow your knife, master goblin? The security measures in place must be adhered to."

"Of course, Heir Black," replied Barchoke, using the formal title for Harry now that he had acquired what was rightfully his.

Taking the knife from the goblin, Harry cut a deep groove into his palm, not even wincing as his nerves were filled with pain and the alert of fast flowing blood, before he slashed his hand outwards, sending the flecks of his blood flying over the floor and walls of the vault.

While Lucius cast a quick Healing Charm on Harry's palm, the Black Prime announced, "I am Harry James Malfoy-Black-Potter, Heir Primus of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black: by my blood, I command the measures on this vault of my line to dispel!"

For a moment, there was silence, but then the items in the Lestrange vault began to glow an eerie shade of silver and, after a moment, there was a soft hiss like steam rising from the earth and all was still once more.

With the spells removed, Harry found it easy to reach and acquire the goblet, his experience with the dark items giving him the foresight to use wandless magic to levitate the goblet into the box Lucius had given him on the day Bellatrix had revealed the Horcrux's existence.

Forged from Black Dwarven Steel, the box was impervious to magical effects and anything stored within its contents could _not_ escape unless opened by a specific command. When he offered it to Harry, Lucius explained that the only way to open it was by Parseltongue and, within the Manor, there was only one Parselmouth: Harry.

With the box sealed once more, Harry handed it to Lucius before he told him, "You know what to do: _don't_ make me wait."

"I won't," Lucius replied, riding the carts back up and out of Gringotts before they returned to the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley's busy streets.

With the box kept safe and secure by Lucius, Harry was able to indulge himself in the walk-around of the shops and stores: he restocked his Potions supplies and ordered his new robes, including a hooded cloak that he later added an Obscuration Charm to hide his face – for when he went into Knockturn alone. For lunch, they returned to the Leaky Cauldron where Lucius took a moment to return the box to the manor while Harry kept a close eye on the time, knowing that they had one more appointment to take care of before the sun went down.

A…_reward_, you might say.

One that had been due for some time now and a long time before…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

By the time they returned to the Alley, Harry was a _little_ disgruntled to notice that the crowd of shoppers heading into _Flourish and Blotts_ had increased in size and, personally-speaking, he wasn't looking forwards to getting lost in its midst. Instead, he let Lucius lead him and Draco around the Alley and, to Harry's amusement, down towards Knockturn where the Malfoy Lord explained he had _business_ to attend to.

In the dark and desolate surroundings of Knockturn, Lucius, Draco and Harry actually seemed to be in their element – Narcissa had offered to wait at the bookstore until the crowd died down and they could safely get through – and, to help in their travel, the Slytherin King released a small amount of dark malice that had most of the onlookers backing off.

Reaching their location, a dingy, but interesting-looking little shop named _Borgin and Burke's_, Lucius turned to Harry and Draco before he told them, "Stay within view of the shop: I shouldn't be long."

"Yes Father," chorused the two Slytherins, though again, it was only out of appearances' sake that Harry used the title.

Knowing that wasn't going to change too quickly, Lucius entered the store, seeking out Mr Borgin and beginning his work on the business at hand: Harry had given him a task and he would see it done. However, like any Father, he was worried and so, before entering, he'd cast a small charm on Draco alerting him to any trouble that his son would get up to.

Sure enough, nearly fifty minutes after entering the store, Lucius found his charm activating and, as he went to the door, he was surprised by what he saw.

Draco was holding onto what looked like a young girl and, from the look of her, Lucius had to confess that he'd never seen anyone like her before: bare-footed and dressed in a blue gown that blended her into the shadows almost perfectly, the girl's blonde hair was like the colour of starlight and her eyes were like water against her pale skin. One of those eyes also seemed to be blacked out with a painful-looking wound and, as Lucius neared the window, he saw the reason why.

Harry, standing in front of Draco, his body tall, proud and filled with an air of absolute dominance, seemed to tower over a crouched male figure dressed in filthy rags that barely clung to his rotund frame. Two of the man's teeth seemed to have been knocked out and, as Lucius watched, he was aware of Mr Borgin casting an eavesdropping charm on his windows to hear what was going on outside.

Though personally, from the appearance of the girl and Harry's apparently-bloodthirsty stance, Lucius could have guessed.

"You _dare_ to think you can own such innocence?" Harry was asking the man, his tone as cold and deathly as ever: Lucius couldn't even remember a time when he'd felt so frightened of the boy in front of him. "She is _not_ your property, you scum: you don't deserve to call yourself pure of _anything_ if this is how you see others."

"Now, now," a cultured voice added, Lucius then aware of what looked like a nobleman stepping out of the shadows opposite Harry, his dark, bronze-coloured eyes fixed on Harry as he explained, "Surely you jest, schoolboy: children like you could not understand the way of our world, but then again, my sweet little robin, perhaps you do have _some_ uses in the…what are you doing?"

He went to lift a hand, but as soon as his fingers brushed Harry's cheek, Draco moved: grabbing the man's hand, Draco seemed to call on strength that Lucius never knew he possessed as he threw the man down, before kicking his wounded companion hard in the chest, the latter coughing up blood that seemed to paint itself over Harry's shoes. At the same time, Draco looked to the sophisticated gentleman before he hissed, "Don't you _ever_ think you can just lay your grubby fingers on him, you scum! If we are children, then you are less than that compared to what he is: your so-called friend tried to take advantage of an unruly situation and, for that, he will be punished."

"Oh, by whom?" asked the man, rising with a grunt before he brushed down his expensive coat as he added, "You cannot touch me here, schoolboy: as for this fine gentleman, he is but my escort and finds me appropriate sport for my enjoyment. So tell me, who will punish me when you are alone?"

That, Lucius knew, was the wrong thing to say and, from what happened next, it seemed like his guesses were right: for as soon as the man had finished speaking, Harry started laughing. A deep, quick-paced laugh that soon erupted into an icy, purely-malicious roar of laughter that seemed to make the shadows themselves tremble and what light shone in the Alley flicker and dim.

"What is so funny?" asked the cultured man, but his words were lost as he finally got a look at the _real_ Slytherin King.

A cold, cruel smile like a predator that had cornered the wounded prey had spread across Harry's face and, as Lucius watched, he then felt it: a cloying, sickening sensation of darkness that threatened to overpower his heart and his very breath. It reached into the crevices of darkness itself and ripped them apart, as though demonstrating real power to any who were foolish enough to cross it.

And, as Lucius shivered and nearly actually lost control of his bowels at the feel of such rich darkness, he noticed that Draco just stood there, comforting the girl that this man had tried to _have_ at his _pleasure_ while Harry spoke with his usual menacing voice, "Funny? Oh nothing: just that I never get tired of the blindness of wizarding nobility: you think yourselves untouchable, but the truth of it is that you are just flies and I am the Acromantula that will feed on your disembowelled remains."

"You're demented, schoolboy," sneered the nobleman, stroking Harry's cheek once again as he added, "But you'll make a good pet."

"Not before you," Harry replied and that was when Lucius saw it: the darkness that had gathered around Harry and Draco, causing a desire for death to any that felt it, now flew out from the body of the Slytherin King. As he watched, Lucius saw the nobleman's body shift, twist and contort until, where there had once been fine robes and well-kept skin and hair, there was now mottled, ugly-looking red skin and black feathers that covered a rotund body.

"I…don't…believe it," gasped Mr Borgin, startling Lucius as he'd actually forgotten that the man was there: however, as he watched, he found himself agreeing with the statement as he saw what could only be described as Cross-Species Transfiguration being perfected by…by a _twelve_-year-old boy.

Before Lucius could admire the magic, he was even more horrified when the man, whom had now become some sort of weird human-turkey hybrid, fell to his knees letting out gobbles and sharp cries that made Harry laugh again.

"Trying to beg are we, little turkey boy?" asked Harry icily, his voice as cold as death itself, "I'm afraid you won't get the chance."

Then, as Lucius was about to ask what the boy meant, Harry lifted his hand and, clenching it into a fist, he commanded one single word, "Disappear!"

Then, as he splayed his fingers once more, the turkey-human exploded in a shower of blood, guts, feathers and excrement, his remains pouring over his companion while Draco, drawing Harry's wand from his cane, cleaned up his liege-lord and let himself take the brunt of the mess.

Harry, meanwhile, turned his attention to the companion before he explained, "You thought yourselves untouchable, but there is _no _hiding from the Darkness: we are everywhere, we are everyone and we are no-one. Who are we?"

"N…N…No-one," stammered the fat man.

"Again: who are we?"

"No-one."

"Again!"

"NO-ONE!" Screamed the man and, as Lucius watched, he saw the large man grip his mind in apparent pain before he fell to the ground, quivering before the now maniacally-cackling Black Prime.

"And yet," Harry hissed, "We are everywhere, we are everything and we are always…"

Then, he took a deep breath in and, turning to the window, he lifted a finger and beckoned to Lucius, not even bothering to hide the dominance that Lucius _knew_ he had over him.

"L-L-L-Lucius," gasped Mr Borgin, "W…what in Grim's name did we just see?"

With a soft sigh, Lucius gathered up the things he'd bought and, paying Mr Borgin, he drew his wand while the man was distracted;

"The future…_Obliviate_!"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Reaching the entrance to the Alleys, Harry let out a deep sigh before he turned and, facing the girl that had accompanied them out of Knockturn, he spoke with a calm, but dark tone, "You may want to be wary of the path next time, young miss: you never know what wolves may lurk should you step off of the road."

"Thank you," the girl replied, her own voice remarkably cold as she addressed Harry, "It was a pleasure to meet you at last, Harry Potter."

Draco gasped, but Harry just smirked as he asked, "And you are?"

"Luna," answered the girl, "Luna Lovegood…and I am forever in your debt."

Then, before anyone could say anything, Luna took off down the street and out of view, leaving Draco and Lucius to turn as they heard Harry chuckling with actual amusement as he watched the girl go.

"What is it?" asked Draco.

Looking to his brother, Harry pointed down the street towards where Luna had vanished, his eyes almost shining with dark light as he answered him, "I _like_ her, Draco…wonder if she's going to be at school with us?"

"I don't know," Draco reasoned, looking down the street himself as he added, "She's old enough."

"So it seems," Harry agreed, letting his fingers rest against his arms as he folded them, an air of pure anticipation now replacing the once all-consuming darkness felt by his companions as he followed them down the street.

"Until we meet again, Miss Lovegood."

**Chapter 13 and Harry has shown his hand, but what sort of force could collide with the darkness in our hero now that he's shown them what he can **_**really**_** do?**

**Also, is Luna's **_**interest**_** to Harry like what he felt for Hermione or is it something else?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: It's back to Hogwarts Harry is forced to meet the bane of our existence: Gilderoy Lockhart; plus, Luna returns and Neville finally approaches Harry where our young King has a task to prove the Black Lion's worth; also, Ginny speaks with Harry and there's news that delights the Slytherin King…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: And there we go: the 'darkness' felt by Draco some chapters ago has finally been given form: I will admit, I did get the idea to use this revelation from Little Miss Xanda's story **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_**; so all rights to the original creator there, but I wanted to show that Harry fears nothing and does have an honourable side: dark, but honourable…**

**AN 2: Also, thanks to a suggestion from a reviewer, I've decided the other two main pairings for this one, so I hope you enjoy what's to come;**


	14. The New Disciples

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Eventual Neville/Ginny

Eventual Draco/Luna

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**WhiteElfElder: And that is what makes him a better Dark Lord than Tom any day;**

**StormyFireDragon: There's a bit of a way to go for that, Storm, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised;**

**T4: Yep and unfortunately, there'll be another target for the Weasel now that our hero adds to his ranks;**

**EndlessChains: I know the **_**normal**_** thing is either red or gold, but there's just something about silver eyes that screams warning bells;**

**Stallion6 of Deviantart: All Dark Lords may have a domain, but the Darkness only has **_**one**_** master…Harry!**

"_Luna Lovegood…and I am forever in your debt."_

_Then, before anyone could say anything, Luna took off down the street and out of view, leaving Draco and Lucius to turn as they heard Harry chuckling with actual amusement as he watched the girl go._

"_What is it?" asked Draco._

_Looking to his brother, Harry pointed down the street towards where Luna had vanished, his eyes almost shining with dark light as he answered him, "I like her, Draco…"_

Chapter 14: The New Disciples

The loud whistle of the Hogwarts Express;

To some, it was like a beacon of hope and anticipation while to others; it was a message to get a bloody move on as it blasted through the echoing space of King's Cross Station's Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters. Within the many spacious compartments, there were those who were either excited to see old friends or nervous about making new ones as they wondered about the trials that were to come at Hogwarts.

However, in one certain compartment, there was neither a feel of excitement nor the concern of new friends as the occupants of this particular compartment felt like they had all that they needed for the journey ahead.

To look at them, anyone would either be forgiven for mistaking them for a group of normal, everyday friends, although they'd be wrong, which was why they'd also probably be sent fleeing from the compartment as though the devil himself was on their heels. For it was in this compartment that the blonde-haired Draco Malfoy and the brown-haired Hermione Granger were sat with the Slytherin King and, though no-one at Hogwarts knew it outside of their circle, the future Dark Lord, Harry James Black-Potter.

With his silver eyes and black-and-white dual-coloured hair, the dark Slytherin seemed to fade into the shadows with an expertise that would take others years to master as he watched the faces of many students pass them by. While Harry's gaze watched the students pass their compartment, Draco and Hermione remained at his side with a dedication and protective streak about them that had come from what they'd seen over the past year: it didn't take a genius to tell them how much of a mistake it would be for someone to underestimate the power of the King now.

As things stood, they were currently waiting on the other members of their Court – Blaise, Daphne, Adrian and Harry's _protégé,_ Perry – to arrive in the compartment, each of the Court members knowing that it would be wrong to disobey a summons from the King. It had been at the end of the previous year that Harry had made the rule for the Court to travel as one so that he didn't need to waste time with the idiots and clueless members of the school while, at the same time, reminding the Court about where and to whom their loyalties lie.

So it was that Harry just sat in his chair, watching the door while mentally counting down the seconds until departure: he didn't need to concern himself with new faces or old friends, not when the Sorting would do that for him and, if anyone wanted to meet with him, they had to get through the Court to do so.

Besides, he wanted to see which unfortunate soul would be the first to mistake _him_ for a newcomer just because he didn't look like his old self any longer.

Personally, his money was on Weasley.

As another loud, ear-piercing whistle from the front of the train broke through Harry's proverbial train of thought, there was a soft knock at the door to the compartment and, without needing to be asked, Draco rose from his seat and opened the door, revealing Adrian and Blaise on the other side.

"Just in time," Harry remarked, speaking for the first time since they'd left Lucius and Narcissa at the door to their compartment, "Sit."

Like the obedient warriors that they were, the now-sixth-year Slytherin and second-year took their seats, Blaise sitting with Hermione while Adrian took his place at Draco's side.

"Where are Daphne and Derrick?" asked Harry, earning a gulp from Adrian as he looked to his King.

"Daphne is with her little sister at the moment, sir," he answered in his flat tone, his eyes lowered as he knew that you had to be given permission to meet the eyes of the King. Even then, from what he could see out of the corner of his eyes, Adrian felt more intimidated than ever as he saw the new silver colour, "Since…since she has not yet been sorted, Daphne didn't want her asking questions where we couldn't answer them. As for Derrick, he's on his way down…"

His words were cut off as another knock sounded from the door and, as Draco admitted Derrick into the compartment, Adrian added, "Right about now."

"Derrick," Harry remarked, stopping the boy from taking his seat as he took charge of the moment, "Go find Daphne and tell her that she doesn't need to be afraid to stay with her family: as long as Astoria joins Slytherin's ranks, then I will allow them both to spend their journeys with us."

"Yes, milord," Derrick replied, leaving the Court in their compartment while he went to deliver the message.

For a while, nothing was said and, in that time, the Hogwarts Express also began to move away from King's Cross, beginning its journey to Hogwarts and the second year for the Slytherin King.

After about ten minutes, Derrick returned alone and, as he stood before Harry, he actually seemed to be more frightened of the dark wizard sat in front of him than he was of anything else in his life.

"What did she say?" asked Harry.

"She thanks you for your kindness," Derrick answered, knowing that he'd been right not to speak before Harry either asked him for information or gave him permission to speak. He'd seen and tasted the power of the King once before and, though he'd never told anyone else of the fact, Derrick did _not_ have a death wish to taste that power again.

"That all?"

"She told me to tell you that Astoria _is_ one of us," Derrick added, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry while he continued, "That is, she says that Slytherin is in her blood and she won't let the hat send her anywhere else. I don't think Daphne has told her of the way things run in Slytherin, but I also think that…"

"That's enough," Harry cut in, silencing Derrick as he added, "If I wanted a useless tirade on what people think, I'd speak to a Gryffindor no-brainer like Weasley. Take your seat, Derrick: and well done…because you're slowly earning your place in the circle now more than ever."

Derrick shivered at the way that Harry seemed to _say_ the words, but with his cold stare and apathetic voice, it was hard to tell if he _meant_ them.

As the compartment fell back into silence, Harry looked once to Hermione before he opened his mouth, actually giving the impression that he wanted to say something before he thought better of it and closed his mouth again.

Draco noticed this before anyone else did, but he didn't say anything: ever since the Stone incident, Harry had been a little…different where his first true disciple of the Darkness was concerned, but it would be a fool's errand to think he meant anything by it.

After another twenty-five minutes, the calm silence of the journey was interrupted once more as another knock sounded from the door: given the information that he'd received about Daphne, Harry was genuinely curious about the identity of his new visitor. This time, it was Derrick who answered and, when the door opened, the curiosity of the Dark Serpent turned to disgust as he saw the Gryffindor dead-last, Neville Longbottom, standing on the other side.

"You lose your way on the train, Longbottom?" asked Blaise, his eyes narrowing as he actually _felt_ Harry's rage at the intrusion as though it was his own.

The whole Court felt it in the same way.

"Not at all, Zabini," Neville replied, his emotionless, matter-of-fact tone surprising everyone, including Harry, before he looked to the King and added, "If it is possible, I would request an audience with the Slytherin King. If not, say so now and I shall leave and never bother you again."

"Then…" Adrian began, but he was cut off at a raised hand from Harry.

"Come in," the Slytherin King retorted, his voice laced with curiosity as he explained, "He was civil enough to recognise my authority, Rosier: I think we can give him one chance to explain his actions."

"Yes Harry," Adrian replied, watching as Neville stepped into the compartment, the space within allowing for ease of access by the Gryffindor; while Adrian moved to close the door, keeping their conversation private, Harry lifted his gaze to Neville before he indicated for him to begin explaining himself.

"I know that the last time we met, I wasn't the one you wanted to see," Neville explained, his voice calm as he addressed Harry – a _lot_ calmer than it had been the last time they talked, Harry noticed – while he also kept his gaze solely on the Slytherin King, "And from there, I began to realise a few things: the first being that you were right to be sorted into Slytherin. Not for its dark reputation, but because you had made yourself the figure of authority that you are today through your own means. In Slytherin, no-one cared that you were the Boy-Who-Lived or Lily and James Potter's son: instead, they saw you for you and, in the run up to today, they began to see you as the Slytherin King."

"Your point?" asked Harry, resting his hand against his head while he listened to Neville.

"My point is that your little cursing of me last year made me see that I had to make a choice," Neville explained, his gaze looking to each member of the Court before he returned his attention to Harry as he explained, "That's why I sent you the ring and the letter."

"I always wondered who my anonymous vassal was outside Slytherin's walls," Harry reasoned, his tone suggesting boredom as he recalled the letter and the mysteries that had followed:

_Flashback Start_

_Harry,_

_I may not have earned the right to approach you directly, so consider this our first true meeting;_

_Let this ring be my sign of fealty to you, though I await your decision to make it official._

_You may not know it, but you're not the only one who seeks to escape the lies and falsehoods and, though I have felt your power and your fury, my desire is simply to stand at your side…no matter which side of magic you're on._

_Light Master or Dark Lord: it doesn't matter to me._

_My soul, my wand, my service now belongs to you, Slytherin King;_

_A friend_

_Flashback End_

"So it was you who sent the letter," Harry added, earning a nod from Neville as he asked, "And are you expecting me to just accept your fealty? For the record, Longbottom, I don't make friends _or_ alliances with Light worshippers or Boy-Who-Lived bigots."

"I know," Neville answered, "And, if I may be so bold, Harry, I also see that you've proven that with your transformation: you've officially shed your skin as the old you and become what you are now: a King, a Sorcerer…and a man whom I would not only be willing, but honoured to stand alongside no matter what the price."

Here, Neville surprised the Slytherins as he lowered himself to his knees and, bowing his head before Harry, he added, "I pledge myself to your teachings, your leadership and your service. I will follow you through hell and back; I will do whatever you ask and your enemies shall be mine. I ask no rewards and if it means proving myself to you, then I will start as little more than your slave if that is what you wish: my only desire now is to stand at the right hand of _real_ power and show people how wrong they are to judge others on little more than word-of-mouth."

"Get up!" snapped Adrian, but Harry again raised a hand, silencing the sixth-year while he looked down at Neville.

"Your steadfast loyalty intrigues me, Longbottom," Harry remarked, his tone of voice making Draco and Hermione shiver as they both remembered the last time someone had _intrigued_ the King – after all, she was sitting with them now. "And I admire your devotion and vow of loyalty, but that is not what I seek from you if you wish to be true to your loyalty and desire to serve me."

"Then what must I do, my King?" asked Neville, his next words almost making the Slytherins faint with shock as he asked, "Is there someone you need me to kill to prove myself?"

'By Morgana, he _is_ serious about this,' thought Harry as he smirked with admiration before he answered, "Maybe later; for now, I have one question for you: answer me honestly and you will be one of us. Answer me falsely and you will be lucky enough to know your own name by the time I'm finished with you."

"Ask, my King," Neville replied, his head still bowed while he added, "I will answer with the truth."

"Then I ask you," Harry remarked, now smiling with cold, malicious intent as he asked, "Do you believe in the Light and the Dark as they are now?"

"No," Neville answered, now lifting his head before he added, "I am a Gryffindor and I desire to serve you in your forces; similarly, there is one who came from Slytherin lines and yet he chose the Light. So no, my liege-lord: I do _not_ believe in the monochromatic beliefs of the fools, liars and deceivers who label good and evil because they don't understand it…in fact, if I can be completely honest?"

"Go on."

"I believe," Neville replied, his tone edged by a hiss that had Harry almost laughing as Neville explained, "That there _is_ no good and evil; that there is only power and those too weak or too blind to seek it. Well I am a Gryffindor who _refuses_ to be blind to the truth any longer: show me power, hurt me to show me _your_ power if it is your will and I will only hunger for more. I will become your most-devoted, most-powerful of warriors and, no matter what our enemies may do to me, I will _never_ leave your side. My life, my soul, my wand, my very essence of life and magic: all of it belongs to you now, Slytherin King."

For a moment, one which seemed to last for a very long time indeed, Harry was silent as he contemplated Neville's response: finally, the Slytherin King lifted his hand and, placing it on Neville's shoulder, he spoke with amused dark confidence, "That is all that I needed to hear to make you mine, my Black Lion. Rise."

Neville rose, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever as he asked, "What now, my Lord? How might I aid your cause further?"

Before Harry could answer, there was the sound of clapping from outside and, as everyone looked, the door opened to reveal the one figure on the train that Harry _had_ been waiting for.

"I think we can think of something," Harry smirked, lifting his other hand as he added, "Hello again, Luna Lovegood: come in, we've been waiting for you."

"Thank you, my King," Luna replied, entering the compartment before she added, "Hello Neville Longbottom: welcome to the club."

"Who's this?" asked Adrian.

"This," Harry answered, watching as Luna sat with Draco while Neville took his seat next to Harry's other side – Hermione was on Harry's right-hand side – before he continued, "Is the first of our new-year members, Adrian: everyone, allow me to introduce Luna Lovegood. And Neville?"

"Yes…my King?" asked Neville, a part of him figuring that he had to earn the right to use Harry's name so freely in their social circles.

"_This_ is your initiation task," Harry explained, "Keep Luna safe where we cannot…unless she goes to Slytherin, of course."

"Of course," Neville replied, looking over to Luna, who was humming contentedly to herself while the rest of the Court introduced themselves to her.

It might have only been the first day, but there was already a feeling of change in the air for the Slytherin Court…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

By the time the Hogwarts Express reached Hogsmeade Station, the Court had well-and-truly integrated both Neville and Luna into their ranks: Neville, understand that, like Hermione, he was now Harry's disciple and therefore little more than his pawn, did his best to stick to his task as he made sure Luna was safely away with the other first-years before moving to a carriage that moved towards the school.

At the same time, Daphne caught up with the group and, after Hermione had explained in a hushed voice about what had happened on the train, she was soon surprised by Harry's dark-charity sense while she was also amazed that their King had brought in members from other Houses.

Reaching the school, Harry was met by his fellow Slytherins, each of whom fell into place behind the King as they made their way to the Great Hall where they took their assigned seats, a few of the seats empty for new members that would come up with the Sorting. As the rest of the school filed in and took their seats, a smirk touched Harry's lips as he caught sight of Weasley's searching gaze, though it was soon put off when he met the eyes of the Slytherin King.

Going with one of his favourite past-times – playing mind-games on his enemies – Harry lifted his hand in a mocking wave before he lowered it and, looking to the others, he asked, "So who wants to take the first bet on when he realises who I am?"

"It's Weasley," argued Hermione, "He doesn't even know how to brush his teeth let alone recognise a student because of a few changes."

"Fair point," Harry nodded, looking down the hall before he added, "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"What?" asked Draco, but when he looked at the High Table, he saw what: sat in the seat usually reserved for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was a vainglorious ponce of a man with hair that was _clearly_ dyed to be so bright and robes that would make a clown look normal. He seemed to be fawning over the oohs and aahs of certain female members of the school, but, thankfully – for them – none of those girls were Slytherins.

"Tell me that's not Gilderoy Lock-Fraud!" snarled Harry, earning a few stammered responses from the Slytherins, "That's what I thought."

"Looks like there's going to be another unexplained death this year," Adrian muttered, earning a cold chuckle from Harry while the others actually did begin taking bets on when it would happen.

The reason that Harry despised Lock-Fake so much was because of what had happened after he'd rescued Luna from the thugs in Knockturn: realising the inevitability of the visit, the Malfoys had ventured into Flourish and Blotts where they'd found Lockhart strutting about like a prouder peacock than Weasley's ill-mannered, narrow-minded, Prefect brother. Copies of what he called his _autobiography_ were on sale and, thankfully, like the rest of the store, the git hadn't recognised Harry thanks to his new appearance.

However, the anger in Harry had only risen when he'd read what had to be the largest sack of crock that he'd _ever_ known in Lockhart's so-called _Defence_ texts. He'd probably learn more from Filch than he would from this git.

Thankfully, Harry had more than enough knowledge on Defence, Duelling and especially the Dark Arts to put Lockhart in his place if the need arose.

But just maybe, like Adrian had said, there would be another _unexplained_ death coming to Hogwarts this year;

It was only a matter of time…

**Chapter 14 and Harry seems to have a familiar bloodlust rising, but can he manage to endure Lockhart's **_**lessons**_**?**

**Also, can Neville prove himself worthy of the tasks at hand and earn his place as a Court member?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: It's after the Sorting and Ginny speaks with Harry while there's news that delights the Slytherin King; also, Harry and Lockhart cross swords and our young King decides to nip the fraud in the bud and thankfully, he has the means to do it…thanks to the Blood Adoption…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: Okay, so now we have new members added to the Court and I hope you liked Neville coming out of his shell like that; his pledge to Harry was inspired by a dialogue from Star Wars: KOTOR 2; All rights to the original creators;**

**AN 2: I've slightly altered the poll to best describe the ideas in the Den, so cast your votes – and if you've already done so for the old one, then do so again – because it will close on 4****th**** July and the new story posted then…**


	15. To Dance With The Devil

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Eventual Neville/Ginny

Eventual Draco/Luna

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**T4: The ideas certainly inspired me, so I thank you for that, old friend;**

**MrGagaSlashLover: Well, given that there's no diary this year, it'll certainly make things interesting, no?**

**EndlessChains; I'm glad you enjoyed the conversion: it's safe to say that Neville's true test is still to come, though;**

**StormyFireDragon: Now Storm, what sort of dark-minded brilliance would I be if that doesn't happen?**

**Mythzzrosenov: Be patient; it's still only second year;**

_But just maybe, like Adrian had said, there would be another unexplained death coming to Hogwarts this year;_

_It was only a matter of time…_

Chapter 15: To Dance With The Devil

To say that the Sorting had surprised Harry's expectations of the New Year would be an understatement;

The first surprise had come when Luna had been sorted into Gryffindor and, to Harry's amusement, she'd gone to sit with his new disciple before, not long after the girl had sat down, a red-haired witch identified as Ginny Weasley had been sorted into _Slytherin_.

A Weasley in Slytherin?

If Ronald Weasley's cries of disbelief and horror were anything to go on, it was certainly something that had _never_ happened in a long time before now.

However, as though the appearance of a Weasley in Slytherin wasn't surprise enough for the Snake Pit, it was nothing compared to the look that she gave Harry as she sat with Astoria Greengrass, her eyes lowering as she met his gaze before she mouthed two words to him that surprised Harry even more:

"_My Lord_…"

"I think she recognises you even through your changes," Draco reasoned, but Harry said nothing as the feast began; while talk was kept to a bare minimum and spoken only on occasion or on ceremony, there was still an air of shock for the snakes as they considered the future with their new members.

Harry, meanwhile, looked past Ginny towards the Gryffindor Table, his view of the room and table pretty clear across the hall thanks to the seating arrangements of the Court and the House. On the Gryffindor Table, he was surprised to notice Neville helping Luna have enough to eat before Weasley's black hole appetite took it all from the House.

A few seats down from the Black Lion and the blonde enigma, Harry also caught sight of two red-headed Gryffindors watching their brother with disgust before they looked across the hall and, meeting his gaze, they winked at him before one of them mouthed, "Take care of her, Slytherin King."

'Since when did I become a babysitter?' Harry wondered as he helped himself to a healthy-enough portion of food and drink, though as he did so, he also felt a sense of protectiveness rise in him as he realised the trouble that the young addition to Slytherin would have.

Thankfully, the House didn't do much of anything without remembering that there was always someone watching them:

The Court…and the Slytherin King.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

When the new students joined the rest of their housemates in the Common Room, there were a few confused expressions from the first-years as Harry moved towards what looked like a comfortable, throne-like leather chair, his eyes watching the House while, at the same time, there were those amongst the Snakes – Blaise, Daphne, Hermione, Draco, Adrian and Perry – who approached and bowed to the King as he took his seat.

Once Harry was comfortably-seated, he gave a single nod of permission towards Cassandra, who was now bearing the _Head Girl_ badge on her robe, before the young witch stepped forwards and, turning to face the group, she addressed the room. "Welcome to Slytherin House to our first years and, to our elder students, I welcome you back: here in Slytherin, pride is everything and honour is our unity. There are those out there who would label us as Dark and, as someone who has seen the power of our Slytherins and knows the difference between good and evil, I will tell you now that they are little more than labels."

The first-years seemed awed by her words as Cassandra turned once more to Harry, who nodded once, allowing her to continue, "In Slytherin, a creed was made and, as sons and daughters of Salazar, it falls to _you_ to uphold the creed: the serpent is silent, observant and swift. Now, our higher years already know of how this is achieved, but to better explain it and the reason for its creation, I hand your attention to our sixth-year Prefect, Adrian Rosier."

For a moment, Harry thought he saw a few looks of shock at the name before Adrian stepped up and, standing on Harry's left-hand side, he began to speak, "In Slytherin in times gone by, there has been one with the power to rule and decide our futures and what we do with them. Such a person is referred to as the Slytherin King and those whom he considers worthy to be in his circle are referred to as the Court: I am one such member of this particular Court and the King that I answer to is one Harry James Black-Potter."

Here, a few eyes glanced towards Harry, who had now linked his fingers and let them rest in front of his lips, giving him a slightly-haunting, but noble posture while Adrian continued, "As such, it is the voice of the King that _all_ Slytherins obey and, as one whom has felt his wrath before now, let me tell you that disobeying, dishonouring or challenging the creed is a _very_ bad idea. Here, _he_ is the power, _he_ is the authority and _he_ is the voice."

Now Harry could actually sense the fear in the air as the first-years looked to him, the eyes of Ginny Weasley and Astoria Greengrass filled with awe as well as fear as they met his mercury-like glare; waiting for the whispers to calm down, Adrian cleared his throat before he explained, "Here in Slytherin, the creed is as simple as the motto and the rules that aid this creed are few, but by no means any less important than the rules of Hogwarts herself. Firstly, as Miss Moon told you, there are others out there whom will see you as Dark because of our House reputation. Such titles and labels will make you believe that all problems in your way need power to solve them: _this…is…not…true!_"

A feeling of intense cold seemed to emphasise Adrian's words as he explained, "You might think that power is all you have, but never forget that Slytherins and all within our circles come from noble lines: such heritages come with two other things besides power…a sharp mind and quick-wit words. If you can talk or deceive your way out of the trouble rather than resorting to power, then you can call yourself a true Slytherin."

"Second," Draco now piped up, diverting the attention of the crowd to him as he explained, "Here in Slytherin, as you can see…" he indicated an apathetically-expressional Hermione, the Dark Apprentice of the King with her arms folded as she stood at his right-hand side, "We have one amongst us who comes from Muggle backgrounds and, as this year's sorting showed you, we also have one from a family that we would call blood traitors. The name we use for Muggle-born students is _taboo_ here in Slytherin, especially in the direction of one of our own: as you all know, our King's late Mother was Muggle-born and, though he does nothing to show the side of him that those who walk in the Light want to see, he will _not_ allow anyone to dishonour her sacrifice and memory by dragging others like her through the mud."

There seemed to be a few pitying looks from the Slytherins as they glanced to Harry, only to have it broken again as they saw his icy glare while Draco continued, "If any of the Court hear you say that particular word towards _anyone_, you will be punished. If any of you hear anyone else using the word, you will bring the matter to one of us and we will deal with it accordingly. To us, the term of _Mud…blood_ is as fearful to speak and taboo to refer to as people saying the name _Voldemort!_"

As he'd expected, there were flinches at the name, but all that reaction got was a chuckle from Harry as Draco continued with the explanation of the Way of the Slytherins, "The final rule of Slytherin is that we are to stand united: out there, in the world of liars, deceivers, nay-sayers and title-givers, we show a united front at all times. Any problems with _any_ Slytherins are to be kept in here and, if necessary, brought to the attention of our Head of House, the Court or the King. You show loyalty to your colours out there, but ultimately, in these walls, your loyalty belongs to the Slytherin King. Any who deny this to him are in for seven years of hell that will make the Seven Circles look as intimidating as Muggle crop circles."

'Nice touch,' thought Harry as Draco stepped back into line, allowing Adrian to face the group.

"Any questions?"

There were a loud chorus of no's and denials from the first-years; unfortunately, as there _must_ be with each rising force in Hogwarts, there was one who denied this.

"So let me get this straight," a sickly-looking first-year boy remarked, his steel-grey eyes fixed on Harry as he asked, "We're supposed to fear this Mudblood's son just because he has a hissy fit for Mummy and Daddy kicking the bucket? We are Slytherins; we do _not_ bend our knees to a half-blood like him!"

"Are you so sure of that?" asked Harry, rising from his throne and, before any of the others could move, he had crossed the room and stopped before the rowdy first-year as he asked, "Name?"

"Roderick Caine," answered the boy, "And you can't do anything to me, Potter: you deserve to be kissing my boots for your stupidity!"

"I like the sound of that," Harry snickered, earning a few frightened looks from the other students as he added, "But how about we have _you_ be our little guinea pig, Roderick? Then, if you still think I'm unworthy to rule this House, I'll not only kiss your boots, but you will take my place on that throne."

"Deal!" laughed the first-year, earning a few sad shakes of the heads from the Court before he asked, "What weapons, Potter?"

"How about…" Harry remarked, looking around the room before he smirked coldly and, looking back to Mr Caine, he added, "Magic!"

Then, before the first-year had a chance to draw his wand, he found the cold that they'd felt around them closing in around him, plunging the world into darkness while Harry's voice hissed at him, "Come on: surely you, the _great_ Roderick Caine, can overthrow a mere half-blood in magical combat?"

"Th…this is…is impossible!" gasped Roderick, now being forced to his knees as he added, "No…please…the walls…the doors…let me out…please…no more!"

"No more?" asked Harry, moving away from the boy and, returning to his throne, he chuckled icily as he added, "But we're just getting started? You wanted a battle of wits? Well _I_ prefer to let my power do the talking: just admit defeat to me, Mr Caine, and you may be allowed to sleep tonight!"

"N-N-N-N-Never!" stammered the boy, "I-I-I-I'll never bow to a h-h-h-half-blood like you!"

"As you wish," sighed Harry, releasing the darkness of his magic in full force, much to the horror of the students around him as they felt like they were witnessing the full intensity of fear, pain, loss, darkness, despair and death all coming together in one great force.

At the same time, Roderick Caine felt his heart stop dead in his chest and, before anyone could make a move to help him, his eyes had widened and a single soundless scream tore from his lips before he fell back, his hair as white as snow and his face paler than pale.

Almost like he'd literally been frightened to death.

"Don't worry," Harry then added, his voice cutting through the darkness as the lights slowly returned to the Common Room, "He's not dead: by dawn tomorrow, he'll have recovered, but I hope this example proves to you why I rule this House."

There were several fearful nods before Harry lifted his hand, bringing light back to the dorm in full as he added, "Then good-night, Slytherins: and do not forget what you saw here today. Do not forget it, but if you value your own existence, you will not speak of it to _anyone_!"

Here, his silver eyes focused on Ginny Weasley, the eyes of the red-haired witch filled with fear as she nodded with the rest of her students and, as one, they left for their dorms, leaving the petrified Roderick Caine lying on the floor while Harry looked to his Court with a mix of admiration and amusement.

"I quite enjoyed that," he reasoned, "I hope I get another chance to show them who's the Apex Predator around here."

"For the sake of our students, my Lord," Adrian laughed, his face pale and sweaty from the fear of the darkness that had filled the room, "I certainly hope _not._"

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

When the Slytherins were introduced to their new Defence Professor for the first time, Harry felt his bloodlust for Lockhart's broken body only rise up even further as he saw the classroom…and that was _before_ he saw the man himself.

The Defence classroom's walls were covered in portraits of their professor, each one smiling and waving fondly as though they expected some sort of positive response: there were framed certificates and trophies along one wall that looked like they'd been _personally_ forged while, at the top of the steps that led to the teacher's office, the _real_ Lockhart looked just as nauseating. Dressed in robes of forget-me-not blue and holding a smile that Harry wanted to eviscerate from his face, the man spread his arms dramatically before he addressed the class.

"Let me introduce you to your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher: me! Gilderoy Lockhart: Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and _five_-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming Smile Award, but let's not digress: I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her."

There were a few titters from the Gryffindors while Harry and the Slytherins all had looks like they were going to blow chunks; thankfully, Lockhart continued rather quickly as he explained, "Now, be warned, it is my job to help you defend yourselves against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind! For all you know, you may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room, but do not be afraid: know that no harm will come to you while I am here."

"Except for the mental traumas," muttered Harry, earning a few sniggers from the Slytherins as Lockhart held a cloth over a large object.

"I must ask you, then, not to scream: it might _provoke them!_"

With a dramatic flourish, Harry saw Lockhart remove the cloth to reveal a cage filled with blue-skinned creatures that had tiny wings and small, beady eyes. They gnashed their fangs and seemed to chatter and squeak excitedly while a few members of the class laughed, Seamus Finnegan summing it up as he asked, "Cornish Pixies?"

"Freshly-caught Cornish Pixies," Lockhart answered, earning a few more laughs while his hand went to the door of the cage.

"Oh no," Harry whispered, "Even this ponce isn't _that_ stupid."

"Laugh if you will, Mr Finnegan," Lockhart advised him, "But pixies can be tricky little blighters: let's see what _you_ make of them!"

Then, just as Harry had feared, the man pulled the lock off the door and let the creatures loose: there was pandemonium in the class with that _one_ action as the pixies began throwing books, bags and stools all over the place, a few of the students ducking out of sight while, like he was caught in the centre of the storm, Harry just stood there, the Brotherhood keeping the pixies away from him. At the same time, Lockhart insisted, "Come on now, round them up: they're only pixies."

"Don't tempt me," Harry whispered, watching as Lockhart drew his wand.

"_Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_"

"That's it," Harry scowled, watching as Lockhart's spell did absolutely _nothing_ to the pixies, "I'm killing him: no court will convict me!"

"How about dealing with the chaos and then making plans for mass murder, Harry?" asked Draco, watching as Harry drew his wand and, pointing it into the air, his eyes shone with malice as he addressed Lockhart.

"_This_ is how you stop someone dead in their tracks, you misleading old crock of shit: _Cerelysia!_"

White smoke, much like smoke rising from a campfire, flew from his wand and, as it enveloped the pixies, each of them gave a strangled cry before they fell to the ground, their bodies twitching nervously and rather furiously.

"What did you just do to them?" asked Daphne, noticing the way that Harry followed his act of magic by magically-sweeping the pixies back into their cages.

"Dark Magic," sneered Weasley, but the words were no sooner out of his mouth before Harry released a couple of the pixies again, these two moving to hang Weasley from the chandelier before Harry's cold glare sent them back into their cages.

"Not quite," Draco answered, recognising the spell from their summer studies, "It's a Grey-level Stunning Spell known as the Nervous Breakdown Jinx: in short, it disables all functions in the nervous system and its classed as Grey because certain healers use it to calm uncontrollable, angry patients, particularly those with what the Muggles would call PTSD."

"P what?" asked Millicent Bulstrode.

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," Hermione answered, noticing how Harry proceeded to clear away his things and, without needing to be asked, the Slytherins followed suit, each of them falling in line with their King.

At the same time, Ronald Weasley fell from the ceiling at long last, landing on top of a recently-_recovered_ Lockhart, his eyes filled with promises of revenge on the dark-haired weirdo now that he had revealed himself for who he was.

And he knew just the weakness to use against the freak for embarrassing _him_…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Two days after the pixie encounter, the Slytherins were going through business as usual at breakfast, Harry sat in the centre of the table with his Court gathered around him, when, all of a sudden, the morning post arrived, one particular piece of mail making its way down to the Slytherin Table.

"What have they done?" asked Draco, watching as a grand-looking Great-Horned Owl made its way towards Ginny, who shivered with fear as she saw the red envelope held in the talons of the owl.

"Pissed me off," Harry answered, watching as Adrian, Daphne and Cassandra _all_ cast shielding spells around Ginny before, with shaking fingers, Ginny opened the letter and the world's loudest voice echoed along the Slytherin Table.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY! HOW _DARE_ YOU JOIN SLYTHERIN HOUSE! WE ARE ABSOLUTELY _DISGUSTED!_ YOU ARE A FAILURE AS A DAUGHTER AS WELL AS A WOMAN, IT SEEMS: THEREFORE, YOU ARE _NO_ DAUGHTER OF MINE! I WILL NOT HAVE SOME DEATH EATER PRODIGY AS ONE OF MY HOUSE: YOU ARE HEREBY DISOWNED! ENJOY YOUR LIFE AND LOOK FORWARDS TO AZKABAN, BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE HEADING!"

As everyone watched, the letter tore itself into shreds before Harry, who'd been busy reading through a letter of his own, rose from the table and, without saying a word, he moved around to Ginny and whispered to her, "Follow me."

Without hesitation, the red-haired witch obeyed, the Court following close behind, but not so close as they saw Harry enter the dorm where, moving to his throne, he summoned a chair for Ginny and told her, "Sit."

She sat.

Taking the letter that he'd received from his pocket, Harry met Ginny's gaze before he asked, "What are you willing to do to get revenge on your _ex_ family for their embarrassment?"

"I'm…I'm sorry?" asked Ginny.

"When I first saw you," Harry told her, "You called me your _Lord_ and said nothing else: then, from what I've heard from associates of mine, you seem to have quite the head on your shoulders. One that shows you belong here in Slytherin while, at the same time, shows you to be different from your siblings: now that they are no longer your siblings, tell me: if I offered you the chance at revenge, what would you do for it?"

Meeting his gaze, Ginny's gaze seemed to harden as she answered, "Anything."

"Even go to the places where your family do not?"

"They're not my family anymore."

With a smile, Harry nodded as he chuckled, "That's all I needed to hear from you, Miss Ginny: so tell me, before I tell you my plan, what is it about me that makes you think of me as your Lord?"

"You're the Slytherin King," answered Ginny, her eyes on Harry as she spoke, "Not the Boy-Who-Lived or Golden Boy, but the King of the Dark House: when I was sorted into Slytherin, I saw it as a chance to see you for who you are rather than the lies of the Light. In a way, you could even say that I _wanted_ to be a Slytherin, just so I could shove it in my brother's face that you were truly gone as the Boy-Who-Lived. For years, I was raised on stories, but all I had to do was hear how you weren't that person and I saw a chance. I don't want anything from you, Harry, and I will serve you as a Slytherin or as a member of your Court, but, from what you're saying, it sounds like you wish to help me. If so, I will be in your debt for the rest of my life…and that's a promise."

"I see," Harry nodded, lifting up the letter that he'd received as he asked, "Do you know what _this_ is, Miss Ginny?"

"No, sire."

"It's a letter from my adoptive guardian, Lucius Malfoy," Harry explained, smiling with cold determination as he told her, "It says that, as of the end of this term, unfortunately we _have_ to wait that long, but as of that time, Gilderoy Lockhart will be out of a job. More than that, however, it also gives me some news about my _former_ guardian, a woman named Bellatrix Black: do you know her?"

"Yes," Ginny answered, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

"That _was_ her name," Harry agreed, "However, after Voldemort fell, Bellatrix gave up everything, including her family, to raise me into what you see before you: to reward her, I had Lucius arrange a meeting with the Ministry to give Bellatrix the chance to explain herself since she was _not_ involved in the actions of that night. She did _not_ torture Frank and Alice Longbottom and she did _not_ leave them for dead: it's taken the better part of three weeks and more, but at long last, here is the result. She has been given a full pardon and, as a bonus, her pardon dissolves her marriage to Rodolphus…hence, Bellatrix Black."

"No offence meant, my lord," Ginny then asked, "But is there a point to all this?"

"Yes," Harry answered, "You see, my dear Scarlet Slytherin, my Bella raised me like her own son and, for a while now, I've been trying to think of a way to reward her for what she's done. And, at long last, I think I have the answer…if you're willing to help me?"

"To do what?"

"Well," Harry replied, "Let me give you a clue: Bellatrix raised _me_ as her own son and yet, for all her maternal instincts and kind heart, she cannot have children herself. At the same time, _you_ have been disowned as a Weasley and cannot have a family unless…for example…someone, like the figure known as the Black Prime, were to suggest to Bella that she _adopts_ you as her daughter?"

Ginny's eyes widened while Harry smirked, the Knut having dropped for her as she asked him, "You…you'd do that? But…but you're the Slytherin King: you shouldn't…you don't need to waste time on me."

"Are you or are you not Slytherin?"

"Well yes…"

"And did my Court say or did they not say that we stand united?"

"Of course."

"So," Harry added, "What's the problem? Say yes, Ginny, and it is done: think of it this way if it helps: I am a Black and a Malfoy now by blood, which is what changed me into what you see here today; at the same time, you are abandoned by the Light and cast into the darkness. Like I said, why not show them the error of their ways? Why not get your revenge and what better way than becoming the child of their greatest enemy?"

Ginny's eyes seemed to regain a sort of icy sparkle as Harry then added, "After all, wasn't it the Malfoy and Black Death Eaters that nearly destroyed the Prewitt and Weasley lines by taking out Mummy Dearest's family?"

"Harry?"

With a cold grin, Harry looked to Ginny before he asked, "Yes?"

"I'll do it!"

**Chapter 15 and Harry seems to have shown a sense of mercy for the suffering of one of his own, but can Ginny get her revenge as the daughter of Bellatrix Black?**

**Also, how will this affect Harry's ultimate plan to topple Tom and become the new Dark Lord?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: The Governors are on the scene with happy news for Hogwarts…and Harry; plus, Harry goes exploring and finds a certain hidden area that belongs to the Slytherin Line where he finds more than he bargained for and not just in the way of what lies beneath;**

**Please Read and Review…**

**OC SPELL:**

_**Cerelysia: **_**The Nervous Breakdown Jinx: Forces the nerves to shut down completely, leaving the body in a paralysed-like state;**

**AN: I would like to apologise for some who may recognise this as being from 'Darkness Is My Ally' and also inspired by **_**The Rise of a Dark Lord**_** by my amazing inspirer Little Miss Xanda; the scene was just too perfect not to use;**

**AN 2: I hope you like what I did with Ginny: I kept the disowning with this one as it gives Harry a weapon that the Light never meant to give him: his own Bellatrix-in-Training;**

**AN 3: Also, if you haven't done so already, go and cast your final votes on my poll and decide the story that is to come on July 4****th****;**


	16. Keys to the Kingdom

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Eventual Neville/Ginny

Eventual Draco/Luna

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**Shadow slice: Probably not; I know it **_**says**_** an AU of all years, but when I say that, what I mean is the events from all years are sort of mixed together; how far it goes, I don't know…yet;**

**Shadow Dragon3221: That's **_**not**_** what's going to happen, but I admire the dark-mindedness of your imagination: also, Harry already knows some elemental magic – the fire, ice and lightning moments from previous chapters;**

**StormyFireDragon: Ask and ye shall receive, Storm, but I think I'll let a canon event deal with that;**

**MrGagaSlashLover: I know; the potential is limitless;**

**Naruto no baka: This story doesn't really focus on Harmony: it's there, but in odd moments: for the **_**actual**_** relationship, you'll just have to be patient;**

**EndlessChains: I think you're about to find out that answer with what's coming;**

**EmilyWoods: Has potential, but not what's going to happen: don't forget that Harry's now a Malfoy too;**

**WhiteElfElder: Yeah probably;**

**T4: I think you're going to love this chapter, my friend;**

"_What's the problem? Say yes, Ginny, and it is done: think of it this way if it helps: I am a Black and a Malfoy now by blood, which is what changed me into what you see here today; at the same time, you are abandoned by the Light and cast into the darkness. Like I said, why not show them the error of their ways? Why not get your revenge and what better way than becoming the child of their greatest enemy?"_

_Ginny's eyes seemed to regain a sort of icy sparkle as Harry then added, "After all, wasn't it the Malfoy and Black Death Eaters that nearly destroyed the Prewitt and Weasley lines by taking out Mummy Dearest's family?"_

"_Harry?"_

_With a cold grin, Harry looked to Ginny before he asked, "Yes?"_

"_I'll do it!"_

Chapter 16: Keys to the Kingdom

As the first term progressed and September slowly turned into October, there was a real feeling of change in the air for the Slytherin Court:

After Ginny's almost-public disowning, Harry had been rather quiet and closed-in, even to his closest of allies, Hermione and Draco: neither of the two disciples of the King could get him to speak about his plans and, on the one time that Hermione had asked, Harry had told her, "It's not time for me to show my hand, Hermione. Be patient."

For the other members of the Court, there was a change for them as they now knew that life in Slytherin would _never_ be the same: ever since the addition – or rather the potential addition – of Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, the King had been more open to observing those outside Slytherin and watching them for potential or just cause. Add to that the way that the former dead-last was able to come and go from the Snake Pit whenever he wished alongside his blonde companion and the Slytherins knew that Harry's role as Slytherin King was well-and-truly cemented.

In the first week of October, however, the entire House of Slytherin awoke to a scary, haunting sight: their King, sat upon his throne, smiling like the cat that had cornered the canary, his silver eyes shining with malice, bloodlust and just a sense of satisfaction.

Dark satisfaction.

The Slytherins didn't know why or whom the cause of the smile was for, but something told them that Hogwarts was in for a nasty surprise…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

As the four Houses and the staff of Hogwarts sat down to breakfast that morning, the Slytherins were also surprised to notice Harry's calm demeanour: he didn't eat or drink or make social conversations. Instead, he just sat in his spot in the dead-centre of the Slytherin table, his hands linked together with his elbows resting on the table, his silver eyes watching and waiting; for what, they didn't know, but there was definitely something about to happen.

Just as the morning owl post flew in through the windows, whatever it was that Harry had been waiting for also happened as, at the same time that Hedwig dropped a letter into her master's hand, the doors to the Great Hall opened and a group of twelve witches and wizards strode in, each one dressed in extremely-regal-looking robes and bearing the crest of Hogwarts mounted on a pair of wands on their robes. At the head of this group of twelve, Lucius Malfoy strode forwards while, behind him, the others looked to be in a state of determination and disbelief.

Reaching the front, Lucius reached into his robe and, drawing a rolled-up parchment, he cast a Sonorous on his voice before he proclaimed, "Albus Dumbledore, on behalf of the Governing Board of Hogwarts and by the power vested in me as High Master of the Board, I, Lord Lucius Malfoy, place you under employment probation!"

"On what charges?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes going to the Slytherin Table where, to his horror, he saw Harry watching him with that shark-like smile; when the boy noticed him watching, he raised a goblet in salute before _finally_ beginning to eat without a care in the world for this disruption to his routine.

"Several," Lucius replied, his tone perfectly apathetic as to hide the delight, joy and victory that he knew he would acquire for his Lord when all was said and done. "Chief amongst them being a continued lapse in the protective wards of Hogwarts as set down by the Founders; secondly, abusing your place as Headmaster for the sake of protecting a national treasure and endangering students' lives by allowing monsters to be placed in the castle walls."

"What monsters?" asked Minerva McGonagall, partially-aware of the calm, couldn't-care-less attitude of her Slytherin counterpart.

"A Cerberus," answered Lucius, "A troll, a large, Class-4 sized Devil's Snare, a second larger bull troll and, finally, a possessed member of staff whom was overwhelmed by, in the words of our sources, the soul of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

There were several gasps from the staff and some of the students before Lucius added, "As Headmaster, the safety of the students is not only your first, but your _only_ priority and, for failing in that duty, you have earned a Grade One warning. However, your crimes continue, Dumbledore: secondly, investigations pertaining towards the staff in this school reveal lapse teachings on the part of Sybil Trelawney, Charity Burbage, Cuthbert Binns and, finally, Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"Now see here, Lucius," Lockhart intervened while, down the table, Trelawney's eyes widened with horror at the prospect of what was about to happen, "I am a highly-capable professor whom has defeated many tasks and trials in my lifetime: if you were to read my books, then…"

"I _have_ read your books, Gilderoy," Lucius replied, his years of masking his emotions helping to keep the smile off of his face as he explained, "And a few of the incidents in those books just do not add up: for example, it takes more than a simple waving of the wand to cast the Homorphus Charm and vampires, for the record, do not eat salad. Any human food they ingest without proper care and consideration has an adverse effect on their systems. Finally, the Bandon Banshee incident you speak of: I _knew_ a man in that village you _saved_ and I know that you are _lying_ about everything you say you did."

"What?" asked Dumbledore, deciding to work with this disturbance to try and hold onto his pride, "Gilderoy, you assured me…"

"Do not bother lying, Dumbledore," Lucius put in, "Our records are quite clear: _you_ have hired one teacher per year for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, all of whom have fallen to this so-called _curse_. However, we looked into this curse of yours and, would you believe it? This curse has only been in effect for the past _twelve_ years, which makes us wonder why you would ignore such a thing for that length of time? It's almost like you were waiting for something to happen…or should that be…some_one?_"

"Lucius…" Dumbledore began, but Lucius shook his head slowly.

"No Albus," Malfoy replied, "No excuses: you are lacking in the staffing department as well as the care of these students and that, Headmaster, is why we of the Board now impose on you a Grade Two warning. One more mess-up, Dumbledore, and you will be _fired_ for poor managing of, in case you have forgotten in your age, happens to be a _school_ full of _children_. No more wild and unorthodox decisions, Dumbledore, which also means no keeping dangerous beasts or treasures within these walls, no hidden objectives with your actions and, above all else, _no more reading the children's minds to suit your own ends!_"

Now Minerva didn't support Dumbledore; now, with horror in her eyes, she looked to her superior before she asked, "What does he mean, Albus?"

"I can answer that one for you, Minerva," replied Lucius, "According to our sources, whom because of their age and prestige, I will keep confidential as to their identities, Albus Dumbledore likes to call students to his office, offer them lemon drops laced with Loyalty Charms and then, while their guards are down, he reads their minds to ensure they aren't going against his notions of the Greater Good. Now, if I were any sort of power-crazed individual, I would say that warrants the Grade Three, but I am willing to let that one slide providing you _dismiss_ here and now, in front of all witnesses present, the offending staff and handle your failings. Otherwise, Albus, your services are no longer required."

Dumbledore didn't know what to do: from the way that Lucius spoke, it was clear that Harry or one of his Slytherin _friends_ had something to do with this and, if the old man actually tried to explain himself through Harry, he would risk his job.

Truly, it was a bold move and, this time, Dumbledore had to hand the victory to his little pawn: perhaps being in Slytherin had been good for him after all…no…that was _ridiculous_.

Harry _needed_ to be malleable, away from Slytherin temptations and ready to either destroy Tom or die trying: there was _nothing_ that would make him good enough for Slytherin.

Not now…not _ever!_

For now, Dumbledore had to salvage this destruction that his _actions_ had apparently created and so, with a deep breath, he explained, "Then, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I do ask those members of staff to vacate the premises immediately. _However,_ Lucius, I have one exception: Sybil, you are to move into a private chamber within Hogwarts and…"

"No Albus," Lucius argued, "EVERYONE! Including your false Seer friend there: why you've let her squander the potential of the students, I don't know, but rest assured, I _will _find out!"

Dumbledore couldn't let this happen: he _needed_ Sybil for Harry's elected Divination lessons; only then would he be able to believe in prophecy enough to take on Tom and take himself out of the running before he became too powerful.

But, with his place at Hogwarts hanging over his head, the old man didn't have a choice; with a nod of defeat, Trelawney was escorted with the others off-campus and, as the noise died down from the cheers and groans at Lockhart's removal, Lucius continued, "Now, Albus: being the _lenient_ man that I am, I have arranged for an expert curse-breaker to come to Hogwarts to deal with this Defence Curse of yours. Afterwards, I think you have a capable and worthwhile Defence mentor on-staff already. And, if it's a replacement for his post that you need, might I suggest my wife, Narcissa, or my recently-cleared sister-in-law, Bellatrix Black?"

There were horrified gasps on all fronts from the students; over on the Gryffindor Table, Harry saw Neville's eyes widen while Luna took his hand in support. Meeting the King's eyes, Neville gulped before Harry mouthed, "Later."

Dumbledore, meanwhile, took advantage of the suggestion before he asked, "And who would this…defence mentor of yours be, Lucius?"

"Why, Severus Snape, who else?" asked Lucius, earning a few more horrified looks from the students while Lucius added, "And why not, Albus? You have many options for Potions Master or Mistress: why, I've even heard rumours that Horace is still available to teach: alternatively, I could think of a few candidates if you feel that Severus is coming to this game a bit late."

Knowing that he needed Severus out of the way of Defence for now so that Harry didn't learn the true power in him, Dumbledore took the high road once more as he told Lucius, "In that case, given my…probationary status, I hereby place all staff dealings in the hands of the Governors, Lucius. However, as you say, _Professor_ Snape would be teaching the students a little too late for their liking with this year; perhaps next year, once your candidate has succumbed…I mean, experienced the way we are at Hogwarts."

"Very well," Lucius replied, knowing already that there were a few _candidates_ that he could think of to continue his young Lord's teachings and encourage the power of the Court to continue growing. He could also think of someone who could be an asset to his Lord and keep Dumbledore's suspicions even further off the radar.

With another clearing of his throat, Lucius then continued, "As is my right as appointed by _you_, Dumbledore, I hereby state the following: Divination is now defunct as a lesson. True Seers, after all, are born and not _made_ as your _friend_ tried to prove; instead, a Healing Magic course, which will be taught by Matron Watkins of St Mungo's, will be made available to the students. Secondly, in place of your ghost, I think one Tara-Anne Parkinson should do for the position of Magical History Professor."

Personally, Harry thought that these were both good choices, but he kept his attention on the event in question as Lucius continued, "Thirdly, as you yourself have forfeited an understanding of our world and encouraged the abusing of the Statute of Secrecy, _Muggle Studies_ will be replaced by a _mandatory_ Magical Etiquette course for years one and two and, for third-years and above, the option of Magical Law and _true_ Muggle Studies will be made available to them. To teach this course, for the first and second years, I think my other in-law, Andromeda Tonks would do. As for the Magical Law/Muggle Studies elective, I would suggest Reuben Dawlish of the Auror Squad."

'Again, a good choice,' Harry thought, knowing that Dawlish was, in fact, a member of Lucius' old group who worked on both sides.

"Finally," Lucius then added, "Until the coming fall or unless he chooses to relinquish the right to our second candidate, the _permanent_ Defence Professor of Hogwarts will be one Remus Jonathan Lupin with an added Duelling extra-curricular activity made available to our students where Professor Lupin will be aided by Professor Severus Snape."

If Harry wasn't a Slytherin, he might have actually let his emotions betray him as he saw the delight and potential shine brighter in Dumbledore's expression at the suggestion from Lucius.

However, as the Governors' will was enacted and Lucius left Dumbledore with the reminder of his proverbial Second Strike, he couldn't help but think about the last name that Lucius had mentioned.

Remus Lupin;

The name seemed familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall why that was…

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Given that it was Thursday, the students were given an extended weekend off from lessons while the changes were made and the _curse_ on the Defence post was broken. As for the one who was doing the breaking, Harry didn't know, but he wasn't all that concerned: when he and the rest of Slytherin had dropped subtle hints to Lucius concerning the imbecilic ex-Professor Lockhart, he knew that his guardian had made investigations and done his homework.

Why he'd really gotten rid of Trelawney and why Dumbledore wanted her around was a mystery to Harry, but one that he wasn't too concerned with: if he needed the answers, Lucius would provide them.

Such was one of the perks of being a Dark Lord in the making.

And, speaking of the Dark Lord, Harry was currently taking advantage of his free time from lessons to explore Hogwarts: ever since his return and his discovery of Tom Riddle's diary, there had been a dark longing in Harry. Something had been reaching out to him, drawing him into its web while also taking hold of his feelings and making him even more curious about the dark secrets of Hogwarts.

Right now, those secrets were drawing him towards an abandoned girls' bathroom on the second floor and, as he passed through the door without a care for the opposite-gender-class of the room, Harry felt it.

The Darkness…it was stronger here: luring him in like a trail that pulled him towards one of a circle of sinks in the main room of the bathroom; bending his head, Harry examined the sink, a part of him feeling power that was much like his own calling out to him.

Power that would serve him well when he became the Dark Lord.

Extending a hand, the Slytherin King ran his fingers along the sides of a tap, a small insignia having caught his eye: it was shaped like a serpent and seemed to stand alone and apart from the other taps.

Lifting his head, Harry took a breath before he drew on another of his unique abilities as he hissed, /_Open._/

To his amusement, the sink dropped into the ground before parting, revealing a long, dark tunnel-like slide that moved down into the belly of the earth; drawing his yew wand, Harry aimed into the darkness before he commanded, "_Lumos Solem!_"

The tunnel lit up like fire in the night, the light from Harry's spell illuminating the tunnel and revealing that it ran down into the depths of the earth, perhaps even underneath Hogwarts itself.

'But if the entrance is opened by a Parseltongue, then perhaps the magic of this place is the same,' thought Harry, resting his fingers on the side before he hissed, /_Give me a safe path down._/

To his relief – as he _really_ didn't want to do the Gryffindor thing and have to slide down – Harry saw a circular spiral of stairs descend into the tunnel, a handrail also coming from out of the stonework and down into the tunnel's depths. Rising up, Harry took a look back, noticing a frightened pair of eyes watching him from a cubicle, before he sighed as he told the owner of the eyes, "Relax: if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have been so blind as to ignore your presence. Tell no-one of me and you'll be all right."

The figure, a ghost of a girl, nodded furiously before she watched as Harry descended into the tunnel, closing the entrance behind him in the process.

Down in the depths of the tunnel, Harry conjured two balls of fire to light his descent as he climbed down the stairway, moving through the dank tunnel while, at the same time, wondering what sort of force could have created such a place. From the snake motifs and the fact that a Parselmouth was the only one who could open it, he hazarded a guess at Salazar Slytherin, but how and why, now there was a mystery.

'Bella once told me of a place built by Slytherin,' Harry thought to himself as he reached the base of the tunnel, 'Could this be it? The Chamber of Secrets?'

Moving off the stairs, the Slytherin King grimaced as he came out into an open chamber filled with bones and layered with what looked like many great lengths of snakeskin. Eyeing the skin, Harry's blood ran cold: he'd been told the story of the Chamber by Bellatrix when he was younger, which also meant that he'd been told of Slytherin's _monster_ in the Chamber.

One that only the _true_ Heir of Slytherin could control.

'Given this skin's size and the number of bones,' Harry thought, moving cautiously through the Chamber's depths although he _knew_ the smart thing to do would be go back and get help to aid his explorations, 'I'd say that it's a big one…and a magical one: perhaps a Runespoor, a Hydra…or maybe…'

His thoughts trailed off as he took in the sight of the snakeskin: nearly 60-100ft long and as richly-preserved as a great treasure; then, again, there were the bones and skeletons and the depth of the Chamber.

'A Basilisk,' thought Harry, looking ahead to the Chamber's depths as he moved towards the interior, 'The Snake's King…heh, funny.'

Moving towards what looked like a door with many snake motifs, a smile touched Harry's lips as he gave the command for the door to open before he stepped inside and, passing through to the Chamber's Inner Sanctum, his thoughts of funny turned into amused laughter as he muttered, "Time for a meeting of royalty, I suppose."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Gilderoy Lockhart was angry;

How _dare_ Malfoy set him up like that!

All because he'd told one _innocent_ white lie to try and claim endorsement from the Boy-Who-Lived and now, now he was alone in the world and with people laughing at him, jeering at him and demanding their money back.

Lockhart _had_ to escape.

Unfortunately, in his delusions of grandeur and freedom, the blonde ponce also _had_ to walk down Knockturn Alley, where he came across a Stunning Spell from one Bellatrix Black.

Standing over Lockhart's body, the former Death Eater cackled before she told him, "Sorry Gilly, but you're still needed to help my little one know the true power of the Dark…especially since he has now given me what I wanted for so long: a daughter."

With that, Bellatrix put a finger to Gilderoy's body and, without hesitation, she Apparated out of the dark alley, her plans in mind for the future of her family.

And the victory sought by her little Lord…

**Chapter 16 and it seems that Harry has scored a victory against Dumbledore, but is his rising about to come to a crashing fall with the Chamber's monster?**

**Also, what is Bellatrix thinking with the capture of the ex-Professor Lockhart?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Harry and Remus meet and the young King is surprised by what he finds about this newcomer; also, Ginny receives news of her 'adoption' by Bellatrix and, with Yule in the air, the gang return home where Lucius has news for Harry and our Dark Lord in training gets his first **_**real**_** taste of power on a live, innocent target: Lockhart…but Bellatrix also has a **_**second**_** gift for her honorary son and little Lord…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: Phew, this one actually took some thought, but I think it's got the message I wanted: basically, as it says, Harry and the Slytherins used their influence on the Board – especially Harry, who holds so many titles already – to warrant an investigation and now, hoo-sodding-ray, Lockhart is OUT OF HERE! Also, for those who think I'm going to bash Remus, you're in for a nice surprise…**

**AN 2: Also, for those wondering about the Harmony in this story, don't worry: it's coming…**


	17. Neville's Final Stand

Cold Heart, Dark Soul

**Disclaimer: **SEE FIRST CHAPTER

**Plot: **Harry, abandoned by the Dursleys, is raised in an orphanage and, through the actions of a surprise guardian, becomes almost a double of Tom Riddle; but Harry, who is cold, callous and holds amazing control over his magic, doesn't want to become Tom Riddle: he wants to become something colder and darker than even Voldemort could be.

**Author's Note: **This time, I'm going with my basic instincts, so I hope you enjoy this re-mastered version; take into account, as always that, as I always say, if you don't like it, then _don't_ read it!

**Author's Note 2: **Unlike the original, this one won't follow the challenge, though some of it will be familiar; also, some may note some similarities between this story and Little Miss Xanda's story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_: this is NOT to copy the idea, but compliment it! I think the story is a brilliant one, but this one will _not_ be exactly the same…

**Dedications: **I wish to dedicate this story to whitetigerwolf for creating the challenge, StormyFireDragon and T-TrainOrTurkey-T for their support in reposting this story.

Also, I would like to dedicate this story to LittleMissXanda for the story _The Rise of a Dark Lord_, which is the recommended read for the story along with, for those who haven't yet read it, my own story, _Darkness Is My Ally_; biased, maybe, but this story _did_ inspire my path to writing – and now completing – that one;

Eventual Harry/Hermione

Eventual Neville/Ginny

Eventual Draco/Luna

Other Pairings TBC…

Normal Speech

'Thought'

/_Parseltongue_/

**Review Answers:**

**MrGagaSlashLover: Then I eagerly await what's coming and hope you enjoy what's coming in this story too;**

**Lord Creator: Right now the only thing I 'thirst' for is more dark inspiration;**

**StormyFireDragon: Well I decided to go down a different path with some events, Storm: I hope you enjoy what's to come;**

**EndlessChains: Oh I think you'll just have to keep reading to find out;**

**Wonderland Princess of Hearts: That's actually a fairly good point, but given that the beast was in a school full of kids, what else would they call it but a monster?**

**T4: The fallout is coming…and it's going to change the future for so many people;**

**WhiteElfElder: You'll just have to read on and find out, won't you?**

'_A Basilisk,' thought Harry, looking ahead to the Chamber's depths as he moved towards the interior, 'The Snake's King…heh, funny.'_

_Moving towards what looked like a door with many snake motifs, a smile touched Harry's lips as he gave the command for the door to open before he stepped inside and, passing through to the Chamber's Inner Sanctum, his thoughts of funny turned into amused laughter as he muttered, "Time for a meeting of royalty, I suppose."_

Chapter 17: Neville's Final Stand

Even though he was currently trying to watch out for the movements of the shadows that would indicate the presence of the King of Serpents, Harry couldn't help but admire the beauty and majesty of the hidden sanctum of Salazar Slytherin, more commonly known as the Chamber of Secrets. With the haunting feel of the dark that wrapped around him like a cloak of shadows, Harry walked amongst two rows of snake-head statuettes, each one set out like two rows of soldiers standing to attention.

Diverting off the main pathway from the Chamber's entrance, the young Slytherin also caught sight of several damp passageways that seemed to reach out through the underbelly of the school and into the framework itself. If he had to guess, the Slytherin King would have believed that these tunnels led into the piping systems of Hogwarts, making it easy for the great – and, from its size and number of skins, ancient – creature to move undetected, though the Heir of Slytherin would probably be able to move just as silently.

'The serpent is silent, observant and swift,' thought Harry, reaching the front of the Chamber's main annexe where he came face-to-face with a giant-sized sculpture of the face of an old, wise-looking, but dangerous man.

Given where he was, Harry didn't need to guess the identity of the man: Salazar Slytherin, Founder of Hogwarts, creator of the language of Parseltongue and the greatest of the Old Days sorcerers to leave this school.

Out of sheer respect for his blood-ancestor, Harry dropped to one knee and bowed his head in homage to the figure before he rose and, looking around the Chamber once more, the young wizard realised that the Basilisk was nowhere in sight.

'Large statue and no sign of the large guardian of the statue,' Harry thought to himself, looking back to the head of Slytherin before he laughed, "This is almost _too_ obvious.'

Taking a deep breath, the young Lord felt a smile cross his face before he hissed, /_Open in the name of Salazar Slytherin: greatest of the Hogwarts Four._/

From the mouth of the statue, Harry could hear an ominous rumbling and, as he took a step back, he lowered his gaze while, in front of him, the mouth of the statue opened and, from within, a large – and, in his opinion, _gorgeous_ – green-scaled serpent slithered out, its eyes catching sight of the smallish human in front of it.

Rising up from out of the maw of the statue, the serpent, the Basilisk, hissed menacingly before its voice addressed Harry, /_You are one who seeks the knowledge of Slytherin, child?_/

/_I am,_/ Harry answered, his eyes lowered so that he didn't meet the deathly glare of the serpent, /_I am Harry James Potter-Black, Slytherin King and Heir of our esteemed Founder._/

/_You call yourself a King and yet you shy away from me,_/ the Basilisk hissed, her deep, wisely-ancient tone echoing within Harry's ears as she asked, /_Do you truly believe yourself superior to all, little King?_/

/_I _am_ superior to them!_/ Harry snarled, releasing the dark effect of his magic; as the power of the Dark hit the scales of the Basilisk, the Snake King gave a hiss of alarm before she recoiled in fright, her fangs bared while, at the same time, her head lowered to meet the face of the human before her.

/_Such malice in you, little King,_/ the Basilisk hissed, extending a long grey tongue to taste Harry's flesh and take in the scent of his darkness, /_Power the likes of which I have not sensed since the days of my Mother serving my Master, the one you call Salazar Slytherin. Truly, you are worthy to be known as the King and, as is your right, I am yours to command: my name is Nemesis and I am your servant, your friend and your weapon all. Now, my Lord, meet my gaze and see me for what I am._/

/_Your gaze will kill me,_/ Harry argued, but he couldn't help but smirk at the name bestowed upon the serpent: Nemesis, as in the Greek deity of vengeance, which, according to the legend, was exactly what Slytherin sought against the other two founders.

/_Not so, my dear Lord,_/ replied Nemesis, her voice as soothing to Harry's ears as Bellatrix's from when he was an infant, /_I have closed my gaze off from your human eyes so that you may look upon me. What victory would I attain from harming the rightful heir of my Master?_/

With a long, iron-heavy gulp, Harry lifted his head and, when he did, he actually felt awe rise in his cold, dark heart as he looked upon Nemesis, her fierce amber-coloured eyes slightly glazed over, showing her word to be true: she really _had_ closed off her gaze.

As the two met one another's eyes, Harry smirked before he gave a curt bow of his head as he told her, /_Truly, you are a beautiful creature, Nemesis: I consider it an honour to have you at my side. Now, if you would be so kind: could you tell me more about our Founder's hidden sanctuary?_/

/_What do you wish to know, my Lord?_/ asked Nemesis, coiling around Harry as though shielding him while they talked.

Settling against the serpent's scales, as though recognising her intent with him, Harry smiled coldly before he answered her, /_Everything._/

With an eager learner's ear, the Slytherin King listened to Nemesis' voice explaining everything she knew and he would soon know about the hidden sanctuary of Salazar Slytherin.

At the same time, the young Lord couldn't help but chuckle with a sinister air as he thought about the Dark Magic that he would discover down here.

Truly, he had found the centre of his new kingdom of darkness…and soon, the world would know its power.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

By the time Harry returned to the Slytherin Dungeon, it was already getting dark and the school was fairly quiet, though clearly still trying to overcome the shocks and surprises of the Governors' coup d'état against Dumbledore.

Speaking the password – Veneficus – and stepping back into his true dominion, Harry was partially-surprised when, as he went to take his usual place of power upon his throne, the first one to approach him was one of his own Court, though not one that he had not expected to see: Neville.

Because they were back in familiar surroundings, the Black Lion knew that he could treat the Slytherin King as the liege-lord that he had become to the young Gryffindor black sheep; with a deep and respectful bow of homage, Neville cleared his throat before he spoke, "My apologies for disturbing you, Harry, but given what was revealed at the feast with Lord Malfoy and the Governors, this couldn't wait."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Neville," Harry reasoned, noticing that despite the clear defiance of his vow to follow Harry no matter what, the Black Lion was still strong-willed and loyal with his words.

He didn't show fear: no, he _knew_ that there was a chance he was going to be punished for this and he was prepared. And it was that loyalty and that sense of true devotion that Harry had admired when he'd first been reunited with Neville as his mysterious, fealty-swearing benefactor.

With this loyalty-loving sense burning in him, Harry smiled calmly as he explained, "As I was saying, I'm not going to lie to you: as soon as you knew that Bellatrix was free and clear, I knew that you'd come here seeking answers, so, in that way, I should thank you for saving me the trouble of watching over my shoulder."

"What…what do you mean?" asked Neville, actually confused with the remark that came from the King.

"Bella raised me," Harry answered simply, earning a wide-eyed look from Neville before he continued, "In an orphanage, I'll grant you, but she raised me nonetheless: she introduced me to the ways of magic and has turned me into the Slytherin King that you see before you. In that time, my Bella also revealed many home truths to me: for example, Neville, if you can trust anyone's word, then trust mine when I tell you that she had _nothing_ to do with your parents' current condition."

"What?" asked Neville, actually turning angry with the words as he insisted, "No…that…that can't be true: my Gran told me, I remember her cackling: I hear it every night in my nightmares!"

"Keep up the attitude and insinuations that _I _am lying and you'll have new nightmares," Harry scowled, a little of his darkness bleeding through and putting Neville back in his place beneath the King as Harry continued, "As I said, Neville: my Bella raised me and, when she did, she gave me a memory. One that I think best sums up how _I_ believe her when she says she had _nothing_ to do with the incapacitated state of the Auror Longbottoms."

As Neville looked up, his eyes widened as he felt Harry's magic touch his mind and, seconds later, the same memory that Harry had received from Bellatrix when he was younger was flashing across the Longbottom Heir's vision:

_Flashback Start_

"_Not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_Bellatrix cackled to herself as she saw the filthy Mudblood spawn, Lily Potter, begging for her life: as if the Dark Lord would actually care for such an insignificant little whelp as a baby._

"_Stand aside you silly girl," Voldemort demanded, his voice startling Bellatrix as she saw his eyes dart to the small baby boy now awake and watching from his crib, "You need not die: Lord Voldemort is merciful: give me the boy and you shall be allowed to live."_

_Bellatrix couldn't believe what she was hearing: the Dark Lord, the most feared wizard in history, was apparently determined to end the life of an innocent baby before he had a chance to live himself. This was wrong on _so_ many levels: even the darkest of wizards chose not to go after children, or at the very least not a baby or toddler; it was in that moment that Bellatrix had seen the true face of evil…and she didn't like what she saw._

_Backing away from the Dark Lord with an apparent intention to backtrack and make sure that nobody stopped her Lord from doing what he'd come to do, Bellatrix watched as the Mudblood was murdered, her son's name, Harry, being the dying scream that she gave out in the final moments. At the same time, Bellatrix also saw something akin to a glow of magic surround the child and, as the Dark Lord raised his wand, she heard the curse one more time._

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_Bellatrix would never forget what happened next: the glow that had surrounded the child caused the power of the Killing Curse to rebound onto the Dark Lord, turning his body into little more than a cloud of ashes and pained screams. At the same time, the dark witch saw a small fraction of the Dark Lord's magic apparently pin itself to the child's forehead, taking the shape of a bolt of lightning._

_Sensing other magical presences nearby, Bellatrix did the only thing she could: she turned and fled into the night…_

_But she did _not_ promise that this would be her last encounter with Harry James Potter…_

_Flashback End_

As the memory left Neville's mind, his hands trembled as he realised now that Harry had spoken the truth: hidden within that memory, he had felt the pain and shock of Bellatrix Lestrange…sorry, Bellatrix Black. He had felt her devotion to…to Voldemort fade away to nothingness and her desire to find and protect Harry no matter what.

She'd fled into the night, but _not_ towards his home: Harry was right.

Doing the only thing that he could, Neville gulped hard before he bowed low to his King, "My Lord, I beg your forgiveness for my ill-tempered tongue: I…I was wrong to doubt your words. It's just…I've spent so long being so angry at the Lestranges that…I lost myself for a moment there, I guess."

"There is no need for apologies, Neville," Harry told him, placing a gentle hand on his devoted disciple's shoulder, "Your word to me and your steadfast loyalty has remained true: you merely sought my explanation and now I have given it. Whoever has told you that my Bella had something to do with that night most-likely did it to make you feel scared and weak. Then, if the rumours I've heard are true, you only _just_ started showing your true magic when you were nine years old, yes?"

"Yes," Neville replied, looking up to Harry's eyes before he added, "My Great Uncle Algie held me out of a window, trying to frighten me into using magic and, when he was momentarily distracted, he let go of me and, somehow, I bounced all the way down into the road. Before that, they tried drowning me, locking me in a dark, cramped cupboard, forcing me to try to perform tasks without using my hands or other items and, worse of all, my Gran actually _encouraged_ it."

"And because of that, you let them lie to you and deceive you so that you were the perfect sheep for the Light," Harry added, earning a sorrowful nod from Neville before the Slytherin King added, "And now, my friend, you are free of those demons: you probably think I'm going to punish you for what you've said, but I understand your rage…trust me."

"Always," Neville replied, meeting Harry's gaze before he asked, "Erm…Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Even though you look different," Neville explained, "You're…you're still a Potter, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Have you become Head yet?"

"Yes," Harry answered, folding his arms as he explained, "I don't wear the ring because it will give the ill-minded Light worshippers a way into my life that I don't _want_ them to have. Thanks to my interim guardian, Lucius Malfoy, who blood-adopted me as his son and Draco's brother, I also became Lord Potter when my guardianship was changed thanks to loopholes found by Gringotts: why do you ask?"

"Because I don't want to live a lie anymore," Neville answered, meeting the gaze of the King as he asked, "So, if you approve of it, I was wondering if you would do me a favour."

"What?"

Extending his hand, Neville watched as Harry linked his hand with the Black Lion before he explained, "With your permission, my Lord…I would like to _stop_ being the sheep Neville Longbottom…and instead become the real me…as Neville Potter!"

Despite the shock of his suggestion, Harry didn't show surprise on his face;

Instead, he showed sheer curiosity and amusement before he told his friend and ally, "I'll think about it."

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Monday morning saw the Slytherins and Gryffindors take their first lesson with the _new_ Defence Professor, Remus Lupin and, when Harry saw the man for the first time, he had to once again admit to that feeling of familiarity that he got from the man.

Thankfully, unlike a certain blonde ponce, Remus' style of teaching wasn't about bragging rights or self-indulgence; instead, his classroom was filled with all manner of oddments and portraits of dark creatures, framed and well-kept editions of helpful books and, rather surprisingly, a collection of _silver_ candelabra that gave the Defence class an eerie glow.

He was a proud-looking young man was Remus: with copper-brown hair that had the odd flecks of grey in its colouring, his face appeared worn, but young and not without its fair share of scars. Deep green eyes gazed out upon the students with an air of interest and mentor-student respect while, at a closer look, Harry could swear that the man had flecks of _gold_ in those eyes: almost feral and magical at the same time.

Remus was dressed in an open-buttoned coat with a dark-red shirt underneath and plain black jeans, giving him a relaxed, but wary look about him and, when he looked down at the students from the stairway that led to his office, a small smile crossed his face as he noticed Harry surrounded by his Court.

Letting his gaze sweep across the class, Remus cleared his throat before he spoke, "Good morning to you, second-year Gryffindor and Slytherins: welcome to your new Defence classes and to a whole new world of potential. Now, unlike my predecessor, I can assure you that I am not here to waste your time or fuel my own ego; instead, I am here to teach you of the best possible ways to defend yourself from the darkness out there. Now, to begin, let's see what you know of Defensive Magic: can anyone name me a type of Defensive-magical spell?"

Several hands went up and Remus indicated them one by one, "Miss Brown?"

"The Protego Charm, Professor," Lavender replied, several hands going down at the words while Remus used his wand to write the words on the blackboard.

"Simple, but effective _if_ you can hold it," Remus answered, looking to the class again as he asked, "Miss Granger?"

"The Homenum Revelio spell, sir?"

"_Very _good," Remus answered, writing the spell on the board while he explained, "Not quite defensible in a battle, but if you can get the drop on your enemy, then you're laughing: now, Mr Longbottom?"

"The Patronus Charm," replied Neville, his voice edged by certainty and earning another beaming smile from Remus.

"A truly advanced one indeed, but useful against Dementors and Lethifolds," Remus answered, continuing through the list; other forms of Protego were mentioned as well as theoretical situations with spells like Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa. However, all throughout the list, Remus noticed that Harry – who had _not_ raised his hand at all – just sat there with a knowing smile on his face.

Testing a theory that came to mind, Remus asked, "How about you, Mr Potter? Can you name a defensive spell?"

"Yes sir," replied Harry calmly, his eyes scanning the list as he waited for the next question.

"Would you?"

'And there it is,' Harry thought, smiling once more as he answered, "The Protego Nethri Spell, Professor."

There were several gasps from the class while Remus lifted an eyebrow and, noting the spell on the board, he asked, "And, if I may be so bold, Mr Potter: how is it that you know of such a Dark-sided Grey spell as the Black Vortex?"

"Because he pals around with Death Eaters, that's why," Ron Weasley hissed, but before any of the Slytherins could seek retribution, Remus intervened.

"And that's a night's detention with Professor Snape for insulting your fellow students and disrupting the class, Mr Weasley," Remus answered, his voice edged by a sense of poetic justice as he explained, "However Mr Potter knows of the spell is clearly his business and, from what I see, it is also clear that you are not what I expected, are you, Mr Potter?"

"Is it because I _don't_ look like Lily and James Potter put together?" asked Harry, earning a soft chuckle from Remus as he shook his head.

"Not at all," he answered calmly, "It is because you are more…well, more than what you seem to be: also, however you know of the spell, please take 5 points to Slytherin for such knowledge. Also, Mr Weasley, I will warn you now: I will _not_ tolerate prejudice in this class of _any_ sort: you are here to learn and, if you don't wish to learn, then kindly leave."

His words touched the students as much as a lecture from Severus would have done: at the same time, he met Harry's gaze and, while everyone else was making notes on the class and the spells, Remus mouthed to Harry, "See me later."

'Oh I think I will,' Harry thought, returning to his own task as he added, 'Because I think I like this one…oh yes indeed.'

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

After the lesson, the Court waited outside the classroom while Harry was left alone with Remus in the room; as the Professor finished clearing up the papers from his students, he stood at the head of the classroom before he remarked, "Come here, Harry: let me get a better look at you."

"Why?" asked Harry, leaning casually against his desk while he explained, "I would think that a werewolf like you could pick out the freckles on my nose if I had them."

The papers that Remus had been about to set down fell to the floor in a flurry of parchment and ink, leaving one stunned Defence Professor to turn to Harry before he asked him, "How did you know?"

"I was raised into the ways of the dark, Remus," answered Harry, his voice calm as he displayed his own magic for what it truly was: to Remus, or rather to his inner self, it felt like being in the presence of the one, true Alpha of the Pack as he heard Harry continued, "You know it as well as I do: nice cover-up with the surprise, by the way. But I was taught to recognise the essence of certain dark creatures because of my guardian's former allies in the Dark Side, such as the werewolf known as Fenrir Greyback, which is how I know you're one."

"I am," Remus sighed, retrieving his papers as he explained, "But you have nothing to fear, Harry: after…after Lily and James died, I left the world of human magic behind and returned to the world of my own kind. I found Fenrir and he showed me the true power of the wolf, which allows me to change at will, even on the nights surrounding and including the full moon. For the past eleven years, I've been keeping myself away from the world of magic except for when it was necessary: then, a couple of weeks ago, I was contacted by Lucius Malfoy, of _all_ people, and told that you wanted to meet me. Until today, I was curious as to why Lucius was the one contacting me, but now that I see you for what you really are, I want you to know that both my other side and I will bare our throats to you at a moment's notice."

"Why?" asked Harry, actually suspicious as he explained, "From what you've said, Remus, it sounds like you _know_ how Dark I'm planning on going: so why not sell me out to the Light?"

"Because the Light betrayed us both, cub," Remus answered, moving to Harry before, true to his word, he did bend down on one knee and bare his throat before he explained, "I thought I'd lost everything and that was why I let my wolf lifestyle claim me, but now that I'm back, I have only one wish and that is to help you. I don't care what you're going to do and I don't care what your plans are: my only wish is to help you achieve those goals."

"Thanks…I suppose," Harry replied, placing a hand on Remus' shoulder before he told him, "You might want to get up, then, Remus: it wouldn't do for a teacher to be on his knees before his student, even _if_ that student happens to be the Slytherin King!"

"I figured that when I saw your Court around you," Remus chuckled, rising as bidden before he added, "But for what it's worth, Harry, it _is_ good to see you again."

"And it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance once more, Remus," Harry added, shaking the man's hand before he turned and left the class, reuniting with the Court along the way.

_**Cold Heart, Dark Soul**_

Back in the class, Remus heaved a deep sigh before he returned to his office, preparing for his next class, but, at the same time, he looked to a photo that was on his shelves: a magically-drawn painting that showed a wolf, a black dog, a stag and a doe standing in the middle of a field of black roses, the two deer holding halos over their heads while the dog and the wolf had demon horns rising from their heads.

"Just like you predicted, old friend," Remus whispered, touching the dog's image as he added, "You had just better hope to make the right choice when you meet him for yourself…because otherwise, he'll finish what the Betrayer started…and _kill_ you!"

**Chapter 17 and it seems that Remus is **_**very**_** different from canon, but what does he mean by a prediction and who is this old friend he's talking to/about?**

**Also, will Harry let Neville become his newest family member and show his true devotion to the rise of the new Dark Lord?**

**Keep Reading to Find Out…**

**Next Chapter: Ginny receives news of her 'adoption' by Bellatrix when the gang return home where Lucius has news for Harry and our Dark Lord in training gets his first **_**real**_** taste of power on a live, innocent target: Lockhart…but Bellatrix also has a **_**second**_** gift for her honorary son and little Lord…**

**Please Read and Review…**

**AN: And there we go: I told you that I had a nice surprise in mind for Remus and this is it; for those wondering about Sirius, I'm going to let 3****rd**** year events play out – mostly so I can have Harry use my **_**favourite**_** line from PoA once again – but things are going to get interesting from here on in;**

**AN 2: By the way, for any who are keeping track of the timeline of events in this story, I'm only doing two more chapters of CoS content and then moving onto PoA;**


End file.
